


This is not the end for us

by ratfromasewer



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Multi, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:36:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratfromasewer/pseuds/ratfromasewer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's ill, as usual.</p><p>*update: I'm only keeping this uploaded because it was kinda succesfull so I guess you  guys actually like it. It's literally a fanfiction equivalent of a shitty romcom.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Yea it's cool I'll be okay"

**Author's Note:**

> I first wrote this when the Joyriding video came out and now when the Hesitant Alien was published I felt the need to keep working on it. A little bit of push from my friend Edgr didn't hurt either, so thanks I guess, dude.  
> An yes I know I haven't finished the Peterick/Frerard one but I swear I will keep posting it too.  
> Please let me know what do you think about my work :)

Frank lies quietly on the couch and tries not to move an inch. Every part of his body hurts like hell, including his head which seems to be the ultimate source of the crappy flow that has taken over his apparently rather fragile body.  
He coughs and it feels like his lungs are about to crawl their way from his chest to leave the sinking ship. It’s dark and silent in the apartment he has been left alone for a minute, but even the sound of nothing at all feels too loud. His ears are ringing like crazy. It’s like a whole parade of bad drummers has moved inside his skull without his permission.  
He tries to sleep but he knows there’s no change he’s going to manage in that. After unsuccessfully trying to calm himself with humming some old lullaby his mom use to sing to him when he was a kid, he decides just to let his thoughts wander around. Maybe that could help him relax and fall asleep.  
“Oh, being a drama queen in the dark room again, right?” Mikey’s annoying voice breaks it’s way in to his awareness like a knife. “Make some room in the couch, please.” Mikey flicks a switch so that the sharp light can burn Frank’s eyes.  
Frank doesn’t say anything, he just curls up to be as tiny as possible, wrapping his arms around him. He has his biggest hoody on, the one that looks like a tent on him, but he’s still cold. He should really check his temperature but he’s too ill to move. What does it matter anyway?  
“Hey” Gerard slaps his brother’s head and leaves his jacket in the coat rack, “Don’t be like that, kiddo. Frank’s sick.”  
Mikey lets out a dismissive “pssshh” and jumps on the couch next to Frank.  
“Don’t be so over protective. Frank’s fine. He’s just a little hangover, am I right?” He punches Frank’s arm trying to get an answer, but Frank feels like he’s going to puke if he opens his mouth, so he keeps quiet and closes his eyes.  
“Doesn’t look like he’s fine to me” Gerard says and turns around to yell in the stairway: “Bob, you coming or what?”  
“Yeah, yeah…” Bob scuffs and is breathing heavily, “I swear to god if they don’t fix the god damn elevator – “  
He throws two plastic bags full of food supplies on the floor and pulls himself a chair. Gerard closes the door behind him.  
“A little bit of exercise once in a while doesn’t hurt you” Mikey has to be a smart-ass even though Gerard is already pretty pissed off at him. Frank prays to god they’re not gonna fight again. He can’t stand the sound.  
If he could, he’d leave and go home to get some proper rest, but he’s so dizzy he would just faint in the middle of a street. So he decides to stay on the familiar spot in Gerard’s old couch he saved from the dumpster when he was just got this crappy apartment.  
“Fuck off, skeleton.” Bob replies calmly and kicks one of the bags causing it to fall. “Who’s the official master chef this time?”  
“I think you’re gonna get my special menu tonight” Gerard answers while taking the bags and starting to put the supplies to their places in the kitchen cabinets.  
Well, it’s not much of a kitchen – more like a closet with a barely working oven. In a flat of this size there’s not too much space, but it doesn’t usually matter. They all have their own homes they can go if they want to be alone for a while. The only particular reason why they hang out at Gerard’s place is because he’s the only one who owns a working TV.  
Mikey tries to find a comfortable position and reaches for the remote on the drawer next to him but doesn’t have the time to pick it up when Bob suddenly makes a fast dive to catch the object. Bob’s faster than he looks like and it takes a moment to Mikey to realize he’s plans aren’t working.  
“I don’t fucking think so” Bob says and holds the remote like a magic wand. “The last time you made us watch something I had nightmares for weeks.”  
“It was an art movie.”  
“I know and it was fucking terrifying. I’d rather watch those shitty horror films Gerard makes us sit through.”  
“They’re not shitty!” Gerard defends his taste of entertainment from the closet that’s also a kitchen while unwrapping packages of noodles and putting them in to bowls.  
“They’re really not” Frank wants to take Gerard’s side in the argument but regrets opening his mouth as soon he has finished with spitting out the few words. His voice sounds like it belongs to one of the characters in exactly that kind of a movie Gerard enjoys.  
“God, you sound like Gollum” Mikey informs him unnecessarily and rubs his head. “You really are sick. Once again.”  
“No shit” Frank mumbles and presses his hands to his mouth when he’s close to actually barfing. The smell of a heating up food doesn’t really help.  
“He looks like a dead body” Bob thinks out loud and clicks the remote to open the TV. “Are you really okay, Frankie? Nothing serious going on?”  
Gerard puts his head out of the kitchen slash closet door and looks at Frank with a worried frown. “What do you think? Are you gonna be fine, Frank?”  
Frank can’t say anything but he nods and moves himself slightly on his back so he can stare at the ceiling and focus on the spots on it in the hope he doesn’t pass out or throw up. He can’t remember the last time he felt this sick.  
Well yeah, he’s basically sick all the time, but usually it’s only flu and that sort of stuff. This time he’s actually in agony.  
It feels like his own body has started a war against him, and at the moment it looks like it’s winning.  
Gerard leaves his cooking responsibilities for a second to check on Frank. He comes very close and bends over to try Frank’s forehead with his palm. Frank enjoys the coolness of Gerard’s hand against his burning skin and he sighs almost so quietly, it’s impossible to notice.  
“Dear god, you’re hot” Gerard says without thinking and understands immediately how he should’ve chosen his words more carefully. Mikey giggles like a six year old.  
“I think I’m gonna buy you a sexy nurse costume for Christmas” he announces still grinning. Even Bob is amused.  
“Don’t forget the lacy bonnet, my friend.” He says. “It would fit perfectly Gerard’s red hair.”  
“Fuck you both.” Gerard mutters and blushes badly, “Your friend is having a serious medical condition and you’re just making fun of me.”  
Frank tries to say something about how he’s not dying or anything, but decides not to. A strong image of Gerard in the costume is floating right in front of his closed eyes and he tries very hard to shake it off.  
“It’s touching how you take care of your man, but I think he’ll be okay” Bob assures Gerard, “Back to the kitchen, my lady. I’m starving here.”  
Gerard gives one last look at Frank’s pale face. “Are you gonna be fine?” he asks and rises the hood to see Frank’s eyes. He blinks and stares at Gerard for a second before closing his lids again.  
“Yeah…” is all he is capable of whispering.  
Frank would never admit it out loud, but it’d be the best thing in the whole world, if Gerard would take care of him. Frank usually enjoys the company of his fucked up friends, but at the moment he would love to send Mikey and Bob to the outer space.  
If he had the guts, he would just beg for Gerard to nurse him and stuff. Not in the dirty way… Frank’s not feeling that sexy at the moment for some reason. But in a gentle way like a punk rock guardian angel or something. Get your shit together Frank, you’re not well.  
Bob’s phone begins to vibrate on the table and he picks it up to answer it.  
“Hey, what’s up?”  
The someone who called says something and the look Bob gets on his face tells them that something has happened. Frank feels it in the way Mikey turns down the TV volume and the atmosphere gets electric.  
“Who is it” Mikey forms the words with his mouth without a sound.  
“I get it, just calm down for a second.” Bob says reassuringly in the phone his holding against his ear. Frank hears the microwave beep in the kitchen when Gerard is warming up their dishes.  
“We’re at Gerard’s so… - “ Bob seems to offer a solution in the phone and is cut by angry string of words Frank doesn’t get a hold of.  
“Shut up and come here” Bob gives an advice with a tone of voice he would only use if it was a friend, so Frank guesses it’s Ray who’s on the other side.  
Bob ends the call with a short “see you soon.”  
“What is going on?” Mikey asks and stretches his limbs to get himself some more room in the couch. Frank tries to make some space between them and ends up pressed up against the corner in a position that reminds himself of a puppy. He’s actually quite happy with it. He feels small and protected.  
Somehow he always turns very childish when he’s ill.  
Bob sighs deep. “I’m not sure… I think May might’ve dumped him. He sounded seriously pissed off.”  
Frank coughs holding his sleeve-covered hands against his mouth. He feels bad for Ray. Even though his on-off relationship with May has been pain in all of them asses for a long time, Ray really feels for the chick and it sucks if they don’t get along. They’ve always been a stormy couple which is odd because Ray’s usually very calm person.  
I guess it’s better to feel so strongly about someone than to feel nothing at all Frank thinks deeply. It’s not like he’s jealous.  
Okay, maybe a tiny bit. The only relationship he would like to achieve is already so official it could never be real. Everyone would just laugh.  
Besides, the thing he and Gerard have going on, has always been there. They’re just like super best friends – not exactly friends with benefits, but something like that. But Frank’s not even sure if Gerard cares about Frank as nothing more than a best friend.  
And it’s slowly killing Frank.  
Like this cough is. Every time Frank moves, he can feel a tight and overwhelming pain puncture his internal organs and especially lungs. Breathing shouldn’t hurt this much.  
This is definitely the most awful sniffle he has ever had.  
“Well, that’s too bad… but not unexpected.” Mikey says the truth and grabs a random drumstick that’s laying on the floor to bang the table with it.  
“Where’s my fucking food?” He demands.  
Gerard serves the big, steamy bowls of noodles and sauce to the living room agilely like a true waiter. Frank’s not sure if Gerard has worked at some restaurant at some point or is he just naturally talented with carrying stuff around in a place that’s messy and the floor is full of crap.  
Gerard sits to eat in the big armchair that he calls his personal throne. It’s upholstery is old and worn out, coloured like an zebra. It’s ugly as hell and everyone else hates it, but Gerard adores it and thinks it’s cute.  
It’s apparently his way to feel like king in his home. Even though his slightly pathetic court composes from one constantly sick faggot, a know-it-all little brother, a grumpy teddy bear, and an afro musician who looks like he’s stoned and pissed at the same time.  
Bob turns the TV volume up and chooses a channel where they show some overly manly car fixing programme. Mikey tries to complain but Bob shuts his mouth with a mean look. They chat and eat and Frank’s trying to fall asleep again, but it’s even harder than before.  
The pain in his throat and below doesn’t pass, it gets stronger. He also feels like the fever is rising up. At first Frank’s so cold he starts to shiver, then he suddenly feels like burning alive and his cheeks get red and skin sweaty.  
He doesn’t want to complain and bring down the atmosphere. There’s no point of making it a big deal, he tells himself. It’s not like anyone could do anything for him to make him feel better.  
Well maybe Gerard could but…  
He almost begins to laugh. It doesn’t make any sense, and the thoughts are running around his head and making him confused.  
“God, Frank, are you ok?” Gerard asks and Frank realizes he’s been staring at a blank wall and smiling for no apparent reason for a while now.  
He tries to answer and looks for a better position. It’s a mistake. The movement makes his chest send flashing pain lightnings toward his sides and shoulders. The grin turns in to a grimace of ache.  
Like that’s not enough, he also starts to cough again and it takes a while until he can stop.  
“I will survive” he assures Gerard.  
Gerard’s about to say something, when someone knocks on the door and he has to get up and get it.  
It’s Ray. It’s apparently raining outside, because his hair is wet and messy and there’s water dripping from his soaking wet clothes. He has a backpack in another and a guitar case in another hand.  
He pushes Gerard aside and steps in like a storm cloud. He throws his stuff on the floor, rips of his jacket and hangs it on the rack. Still no one says anything.  
Then he finally looks at them, with a repressed anger on his face. It takes few seconds before this look that screams “I’m ready to kill someone” melts and turns into silent sobs.  
“Sit down, Ray.” Gerard says with a low and fatherly voice. Mikey has wiped his irritating coolness off his face and looks very sympathetic. Frank’s not really in shape of making anyone feel better, but he taps Ray’s back when he walks past the couch to sit down in the last free chair.  
He sits silently for a while, his head pressed against his hands until he seems to get it together. Bob gives him a paper so he can dry up his face and he starts to play with his hair as usual.  
“So, are you gonna tell us what happened?” Bob importunes.  
“But only if you want to” Gerard specifies.  
“No, no it’s fine…” Ray mutters, “I guess it’s been clear for a while we can’t keep going on like this.”  
Frank’s glad Ray has understood that himself, so that in the end some of them didn’t have to say it. It’s still a shame. Frank really likes May, but the way things have been going, it seems idiotic to carry on.  
At least that Frank thinks before Ray drops the bomb.  
“Yeah I kinda realized this wasn’t working out like this… so decided to propose. Tonight.”  
They all freeze. No one knows what to say. Well, of course it shouldn’t be that much of a shock since Ray and May have been a couple since high school or something, but still.  
Ray’s not the type for something so… traditional.  
“To be honest” Mikey breaks the silence, “god damn terrible idea.”  
“Yeah as it turned out she was planning on breaking up with me.” Ray says.  
“That must’ve been very awkward.” Gerard wonders brightly.  
“Did you kneel and everything?” Bob asks sounding very interested about a tiniest detail.  
“I did. I did actually fucking kneel and shit.” Ray bursts out. “And I had everything thought ready. But then this bitch just goes get up and I’ll help you pack.”  
“Wow, dude that’s cold.” Frank says coarsely and clears his throat, “I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah we all are.” Gerard confirms. “You can stay here for few nights if you want to.”  
“That’d be great… I’ll sleep on the couch.”  
Gerard gives Frank a quick look.  
“I think the couch is already taken, but I think I have one extra mattress. You can sleep on the floor.”  
“Fair enough.” Ray agrees. “I smell food. May didn’t cook today. Can I have some?”  
“Be my guest.”  
Ray gets up to get the food but stops in the middle of his movement and mutters thoughtfully almost like to himself: “You know what sucks the most? I actually loved her.”  
No one knows what to say to that, so they just pretend it didn’t happen and start to chat about something else.


	2. Because I hate that look that's on your face

Frank wakes up in the middle of the night, silently whining and mumbling something unclear. He can’t really remember his nightmare, but it had something to do with spiders.  
Obviously.  
Why does it always have to be the fucking spiders? Frank has been afraid of them since he was a kid. He can’t fully explain it to anyone, including himself. It doesn’t matter how hard he tells himself they are mostly small and harmless. He just completely loses his shit if he even sees one, not to mention the situation where he has to get rid of one.  
Spiders are definitely the proof of satan’s existence.  
Ray’s sleeping on the mattress on the floor, so calmly it sort of breaks Frank’s heart. He knows it’s going to take a while until Ray’s truly back in business again. And why wouldn’t it take and why wouldn’t it hurt? Losing someone you love is honestly one of the crappiest feelings in the world. He was there to see Ray’s and May’s best and worst days, and there was something undeniably connecting between them. Despite all the fights and dramas, they made each other happy. It’s always such a shame when something like that happens; two people who fit together so perfectly don’t get it to work in the end after all.  
Frank’s still sick, he’s heart is racing weirdly fast and he coughs, smothering the sound in his covers Gerard lent from the nice neighbours when he realized he didn’t have enough of his own for two sleep over guests.  
Frank needs to pee so he gets up carefully, trying not to wake Ray up. Also he’s a bit dizzy. To get to the toilet he has to walk past the only bedroom door in the apartment. He knows that behind it sleeps the only person he misses at the moment. Yeah, he’s not afraid to admit it to himself. Admit that he actually misses someone who he pretty much meets five times a week. But it’s always so casual and so under control.  
It’s almost like there’s nothing going on even though Frank thinks there is, and has always been since the first time he laid his eyes on Gerard and came to the conclusion he’s hot as hell.  
They’ve never discussed it, they’ve never done anything about it. It’s only a collection of looks and touches that could be read as innocent and friendly but Frank just can’t. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries to convince himself that there’s really nothing between them and the chemistry he feels is only a thing of his imagination, but he just can’t take it. Every time he’s almost ready to believe it’s only in Frank’s mind, something small but meaningful happens, like an accidental stroke of a hair or hand brushing a thigh.   
Of course, he’s not the only person who has noticed how great couple they would make. It’s kind of an unofficial thing already and at least Mikey takes them as a pair. Even though it’s a normal thing to assume they are in fact a boyfriend and a boyfriend, there’s a line drawn somewhere between joking around and actually talking about stuff. In deep conversations no one ever brings it up and officially they are just friends.   
And of course they are. Gerard’s a best buddy anyone could ever hope for. He’s friendly, funny and caring person who always has time for Frank and he always has his back. They’ve been through a lot of things from getting unbelievably drunk to getting arrested for stripping naked in a public place.  
These two might’ve something to do with each other.  
Anyways.   
Gerard’s everything Frank could ever hope for and counting in the fact he’s totally cute and kissable, he’s making Frank’s life very difficult. And still, he wouldn’t give it up for anything. And that’s awful, because Frank knows getting their romantic feelings involved would make everything so much more complicated.  
He sighs deeply and can’t help but feel like a teenage girl. He should really get himself a diary and start to write these things down. That’s the first thing he’s gonna get done in the morning. He could be a proper fangirl.  
He grins to himself but gets serious again when he acknowledges how hard his situation sucks in every way.  
It’s ridiculous, it’s 2am in the morning and Frank stands his hands softly pressed against Gerard’s bedroom door like he could somehow send his warm thoughts through it into Gerard’s dreams.  
Frank shakes his head to clear his thoughts and sways in to the toilet. He locks the door and takes care of his things. While he’s washing his hands, he feels the need to cough again and he takes his time to lean against the sink and expectorate. It seems to come somewhere deep and it shakes his whole body. He hopes he’s not waking up the entire house.  
His mouth feels weirdly moist and he puts his hand against his lips, coughs again and looks at his palm with a sudden panic.  
What the hell –   
There’s blood in his hand.   
He’s never been afraid of blood but it’s not like he could stay totally calm when he’s bleeding from places a human really shouldn’t bleed. Not even if they’re ill.  
A small drop of red escapes his palm and hits the sink creating a thin line of pink in the side of it while running down and mixing with water.  
For a moment he thinks of waking Gerard up but it feels unnecessary. He can find his way to the closest paramedics himself, it’s only like half an hour of walk. He can do that, it’s not big deal and Gerard has to work tomorrow.   
Gerard’s not responsible for this situation. Frank will send him a text when he gets to the nurses and heavy medicine. Yeah that sounds like a plan.  
Frank reaches for the door nod and his knees nearly fail him. He drops and is close to fainting. There’s black dots in his eye sight and he’s going to fall on the floor at any minute. Suddenly, the lonely walk in to the hospital doesn’t sound that great.  
“Gee” he groans, his throat is sore. “Gerard!”  
He tries to open the door but his hands are shaking. He’s panicking, because he doesn’t know how long he is capable of keeping himself in conscious.   
“Gee!” He yells louder and turns the lock. “Gee!”  
He gets on his knees because it feels impossible to stand up anymore. It’s only a matter of seconds until he’s blacking out.   
Suddenly he remembers he hasn’t eaten for at least one and a half day. That might have something to do about is miserable state.   
Is Gerard a heavy sleeper? At least Ray is.  
“Gerard!” Frank mumbles one last time until his voice is totally gone and he can’t say anything anymore.  
There’s something warm dripping down his jaw. He tries very hard not to think about it. What if he passes out on the bathroom floor and Gerard doesn’t wake up until in the morning? Will they find him then? Is it too late already? Frank doesn’t know what’s wrong with him or is it even that serious but he could never know. It could be something deadly. He could be lifeless in the morning. That’d be a terrible way to start a day, find your best friend’s body in your bathroom his face covered all over in his own blood.  
“Frank?” Gerard knocks on the door, “Is everything alright?” Frank’s so relieved. He can’t say anything but he reaches for the doorknob once again and manages to pull the door open Gerard stands behind.  
“Frank what – Oh my god” Gerard’s pale and looks terrified. He gets on the floor next to Frank and yells to the living room: “RAY! CALL 911!”  
Ray answers something but Frank can’t hear it. All the voices are turning in to a soft mumble in his ears. Gerard has his hand behind his back so that he doesn’t fall on the floor – he’s also saying something, but Frank can’t bring himself to listen. He feels like he’s safe.  
The last thing Frank sees before everything fades into darkness are Gerard’s eyes. Frank thinks Gerard has very beautiful irises.  
Very beautiful indeed.


	3. I dry your eyes and hide my shakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I have no idea of the plot of this story yet, but I guess I'll make it up as I go along. I don't even have a clue of how long this is going to be, but we'll see about that.  
> Thank you so, so much for reading, seriously, it means a lot to me! ♥

As the eloquent and civilized person Frank is, his first words when he wakes up in a hardly very comfortable bed wearing sheer, dress-like clothing and some random hosepipes running from his arms to a Robocop-looking machine, are obviously: “What the fuck?”  
After he’s recovered from surprise, he takes a moment to appreciate the fact he’s still alive, even if his throat is hurting like hell. Well, the drugs are definitely making the things a lot better. After hearing his official diagnosis (pneumonia) he’s been told that he has to stay one night and then he can go home with a heavy prescription of pain killers and antibiotics. Just for the sake of it, Frank keeps asking for more and more morphine.  
He smiles as charmingly as he can to a young nurse girl who keeps staring at Frank, and talks himself a few portions more. The girl giggles and acts like it’s an early Christmas when Frank says she’s pretty.  
He’s taking advantage of the poor chick, but who does it really hurt. Definitely not Frank. By the time Bob and Ray drop by to bring few books and his headphones, he’s already high as fuck.  
“So how are you holding up?” Bob asks and places the books on the small drawer next to Frank’s bed. “You looked like shit yesterday. But you got to understand, that’s nothing unusual so…”  
“Bob stop being so smooth. It’s almost painful.” Ray drops in a sarcastic comment.  
Bob shows him the middle finger.  
“I’m absolutely wonderful” Frank says and grins widely, “No pain. Nope. Not at all.”  
“Man” Ray looks at him, “Are you stoned?”  
Frank giggles and looks at them with the happiest face in the whole planet.  
“Sort of… I fucking loooove hospitals.” He announces loudly and the lady in the bed next to him gives the young man very bloody look like it’s Frank’s fault everything’s just so great around here. They’re pushing an old guy in a wheel chair in the hallway. He’s so old he looks like human version of Yoda. Frank raises his hand and waves politely to this grandpa, but he doesn’t react. Frank smiles and thinks out loud without noticing it: “Teehee… Mr. Raisin.”  
Ray and Bob exchange weird looks behind his back, trying to non-verbally figure out how to deal with Frank in this state of mind.  
“Mikey’s going to see you later as soon as he can, and so is Gee I guess.” Bob informs Frank while he’s very concentrated in drawing an apple in his arm with a permanent marker. It goes well with his tattoos.  
“The poor guy’s exhausted” Ray sighs, “I mean, he spent the whole night here with you and then he went straight for work.”  
“I don’t think Gee does anything straight. He’s not a straight person.” Frank says and laughs so hard at his own bad joke, he almost falls from the bed.  
“Yeah, well, anyway… - “ Ray keeps going on rolling his eyes, “He’s probably still kinda shocked, I mean he must’ve been thinking you were dying in his arms.”  
The old 80’s song starts to play in Frank’s head.  
“It must’ve been something you said” he smiles and is not even disappointed when no one finds it funny. He still thinks it’s hilarious.  
“Dude, it was kinda brutal” Ray tries to explain, “you unconscious and the blood dripping from your mouth… It was like Gerard’s shit films coming true.”  
“Am I the only one who actually enjoys his movies?” Frank wonders not giving a thought about an image of himself laying in the floor with bloody face and Gerard stroking his hair until they can hear the sirens or something like that.  
Bob nods. “Yeah, I’m sorry but you are.”  
“Well, I’m the only one who wants to bang him, too.” Frank points out.  
“You’re joking, right?”  
“How should I know? I’m baked.”  
“Right…”  
Unlike Ray told Frank, Gee doesn’t show up in the same day, but considering Frank’s strong urge to confess his undying love with some musical-like ukulele solo, it’s probably a good thing. So, instead of making an ass out of himself (more than usual) he spends the day listening to some music from his headphones, empathizing to the songs so intensely, the staff needs to ask him to calm down. Apparently playing some badass air-guitar is not allowed here.  
At least if his roommates are trying to sleep.  
The doctor checks on him at some point, suggesting wisely that Frank should get some rest considering the stress. He wants to be a grateful patient, so by the time of six o’clock in the evening Frank’s already passed out and sleeping like a small child.  
When he wakes up in the next morning, the euphoria is definitely gone. He feels someone shaking his shoulder and nagging; “Hey! Dude! Get up!”  
“Umph, what?”  
“You gotta go.”  
The person who’s not so sweetly dragging him up is not the same girl as yesterday. She was surely a blond and also, very shy; this one’s neither. She’s strong as hell and practically lifts Frank from the bed with his two arms.  
“You hear me, man? It’s time to fly from the nest.”  
“Hey, wait – “ Frank coughs, the sharp pain has returned. “Could you give something – I mean, for the pain at first?”  
“Honey, I look like a doctor to you?” The stangers asks, putting his hands on his waist. She’s at least two or three inches taller than Frank, even though that is not so hard, pretty much anyone is taller than him, but still.  
“At least you’re dressed up as a nurse. Or is that just some kink?”  
“Oh, a cocky one, great” she sighs, “I fucking hate morning shifts.”  
“Well, if you’re not gonna give me any medication, I’ll find a proper nurse then.”  
“You go ahead… Actually you have to meet the doctor before you’re good to go. But now, excuse me I have to clean up after you… Please don’t tell me you have bed-wetting issues.”  
“Don't think so” Frank croaks, his throat feeling like it’s on fire again, “...Jamia.” He reads from her nametag that’s attached to her sloppily buttoned uniform.  
“No problem, mr. Iero. And no, I have no idea how to pronounce that but don’t correct me because I really don’t care.”  
“Aren’t you a little sunshine.” Frank rubs his head, finally getting off the bed and subconsciously covering his crotch with his hands, looking around him to find a pair of jeans.  
All he asks for is a pair of jeans.  
“It’s not like I don’t mind stripping in front of you or anything like that” Frank manages, “But I’d really like to wear some clothes.”  
“On the bed number 54.”  
“Awesome. Thanks.”  
Frank walks stiffly and shivering from cold to the bed he’s been guided to and is not disappointed. Apparently Gee has visited Frank once again when he’s sleeping, because there are Frank’s favourite pants and a one huge-ass t-shirt, including a sweater, on the bed.  
He dresses up quickly while Jamia is most obviously forgotten about him and humming to herself some catchy tune, folding the dirty sheets and getting them replaced with new, fresh ones.  
It doesn’t take long ‘til Frank has packed his back and ready to go. He gives the fun nurse a final look and as a polite guy he is, mumbles a small “thanks” before leaving the room.  
“Hey, no problem. It’s my job.” Jamia replies sarcastically.  
Frank stands outside the hospital building, aching for a cigarette and waiting for someone to pick him up. Ray promised to come as soon as he could but it’s been like what, one and a half hour, and Frank is kinda pissed off. He would call someone else, but they’re all at work at this time and fuck, there’s no point to wasting his phone battery.  
Well, he could use a little walk. It’s like two blocks or something.  
He has his medicaments in a plastic bag, bottles of pills chinking against each other when he starts to walk, sleeves of he sweater stretched as down as possible, hiding his palms from cold. He walks his head down, messy, dirty hair swaying in front of his pale face and dark under-eyes. It must look like he’s a junkie.  
Following the bricks of the flaky sidewalk, he walks, a bit unsurely, slowly but steadily.  
“Hey, you need a ride, handsome?”  
“No thanks.” He turns down a helpful offer from slightly cranked open car window.  
“You sure? I mean, I’m not a proper doctor, but – “  
Frank’s about to say something poetic like "fuck off", but then he recognises the weirdly low voice for a chick. It’s the nurse Jamia he left to her work like couple of hours ago.  
“Hi!” Frank coughs, “I didn’t notice it was you.”  
Jamia’s driving an old-ass, screaming red Volvo.  
“Hop in, honey, I’ll take you home.”  
“Please do” Frank accepts the overture gladly and gets in the comfy-looking front seat. “It’s not far, though.”  
“Still. I wouldn’t forgive myself if they’d rob and rape your skinny ass. You’re not in the condition of taking care of yourself.”  
“Hey, you’ve already humiliated me enough” Frank whines, “stop stealing the last parts of my manliness.”  
“I don’t think you know the word.” Jamia grins and turns the wheel with another hand while digging through her purse with another.  
“Fancy a smoke?” She offers a pack of cigarettes.  
“Yes, please.” Frank takes one and uses his lighter he got from Gee last Christmas. It has a picture of pug with shades on it.  
The nicotine is the most enjoyable thing in a while. Frank can already feel his body relaxing. Jamia opens the windows so the smoke can escape through them and the car doesn’t turn into chimney on wheels.  
“So…” Jamia importunes shamelessly, “How come a guy like you doesn’t have a pretty girl – or a hot guy I’d think – taking care of him?”  
Frank doesn’t reply to the quite straightforward presumption about his sexuality but sucks on the cigarette almost aggressively, finally letting the smoke from his nostrils and sighing from satisfaction.  
“Don’t need anybody, I think. Forever single, I am.” He pokes his chest, grinning. “That doesn’t mean I’m in a celibate, though.”  
“Oh, a lonely wolf?” Jamia laughs, “You look more like a puppy to me.”  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”  
“How could you not?” Jamia marvels innocently, “Puppies are adorable!”  
“True.”  
She has a big suitcase on the backseat, like the one in old black and white movies, Frank notices. He’s immediately curious (could be body parts as far as he knows), but doesn’t have the opportunity to ask, when they’re already next to Gee’s building.  
“This is my stop, I think. Thanks for the joyful ride.”  
“Wait” Jamia hollers before Frank can get himself out, “Do you have anyone making you a cup of tea there?”  
“No, why?” Frank coughs once again, “I’ll be fine.”  
“You need to make some tea, okay?” Jamia makes sure, “Tea helps. Seriously. I’m a professional.”  
“Sure, but one thing…” Frank shivers and tries to pull the sweater tighter around him, “How did I get the pleasure of this escort?”  
“I’m a saint.” Jamia explains.  
“Oh… okay. I’ll just go now before I freeze. But thank you.”  
“Bye, puppy!”  
She slams the car door closed and hits the pedal, waving at Frank from the side mirror when she sweeps off.  
What an odd person.  
Frank climbs up the endless stairs, wishing for Gee to come back home as soon as he can to make some sweet ass tea and maybe some fluffy get-better-talk. That’s all the lonely wolf aka puppy guy asks for at the moment. It’s not too much, is it?  
There’s still some dried up blood drops in the bathroom floor, he notes, before he without considering if it’s weird or not, crawls into Gee’s bed and after few minutes, he’s already asleep, hugging one of Gee’s big, soft pillows.


	4. These things inside my head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my heart skips a beat every time someone reads my fic, kudos or leaves a comment. Please keep on doing that if you like my work.  
> Anyways, I hope you're not allergic to cheesy stuff.

“Hey…” Something’s poking Frank and it’s irritating. He tries to fling it off, whatever it is – he’s in the middle of a very interesting dream involving a lot of kissing with – with – wait, who’s poking him?  
Not Gee, right?  
The hint of familiar scent, gum and curry (Gee usually enjoys his lunch breaks in an Indian restaurant) reaches his nose, even though he’s so sneezy, it’s debasing his sense of smell.  
“Frankie?”  
“Yeah?” Frank rubs his eyes and lifts up a little, leaning against his elbows. He has no idea how long he has been sleeping or what’s the time.  
“Just wondering if you want something to eat.”  
“I –“ Frank’s a little embarrassed of where he has been found, maybe little bit too comfortable, also possibly mumbling weird things in his sleep like he often does. He prays to lord it’s nothing too aggravating, like Gee’s name for example. “I’m sorry I slept here but I dunno, the couch seemed so un-attempting. Not that there’s anything wrong with it of course -” He blushes.  
“No, no, it’s fine.” Gee grins shyly, “Glad you’re better.”  
“Yeah” Frank scratches his neck. “So, you were talking about food?”  
“Ray’s making some veggie couscous-shit as a gesture of peace, since he forgot to pick you up.” Gee explains and his words are followed by a sharp clank that sounds like something heavy and iron hitting a table.  
“FUCK!”  
“He’s no Gordon Ramsay, but at least he tries.” Gee sighs.  
Frank laughs and inches down the bed, feeling stuffy and still half asleep.  
“So, did you walk home or what?” Gee worries, “You shouldn’t have done that.”  
“Nah, some nurse gave me a ride.” Frank mutters stretching his arms and yawning.  
“Oh.” Gee’s voice is sort of accusative, but when Frank glances at him from the corner of his eye, he looks normal and cheery as usual.  
“So, you wanna sleep in my bed tonight too?” Gee jokes and it takes Frank too long to realize he’s not serious about it. For a moment Frank looks very confused before grinning awkwardly. “Haha… Don’t think so.”  
“Yeah, haha…” Gerard refuses to make an eye contact and his cheeks are burning a bit. “I was kidding… obviously.”  
“Obviously.” Frank echoes and mentally bitch slaps himself. Fuck.  
To escape the moment of neither of them knowing what to say, he leaves the room “to say hi to Ray” as he coughs.  
He finds Ray spicing up some odd-looking mush that’s apparently supposed to be a gourmet vegetarian meal. Frank barely recognises huge pieces of carrot and zucchini in it. There’s a small trail of sweat running down Ray’s forehead while he desperately googles something with his laptop, keeping an eye on the food at the same time.  
“Need some help?” Frank offers.  
“I can handle this” Ray assures with a troubled tone, “but I still hate you for being a fucking rabbit. Could you just eat a fucking steak like a normal human?”  
“You know that Morrisey is vegetarian too?” Frank responds smartly, knowing very well that they’ve had this conversation like million times before, “it’s not just some hippie thing. You should try it. It’s been proven that it lowers your stress levels highly.”  
“I swear to god Frank – “  
“Thought you were an atheist.” Frank interrupts.  
“Well I’m starting to believe in Satan, you have to get your unbelievably annoying comebacks from higher – I mean lower powers.” Ray argues while reading some cooking blog called “it’s a cow, not a sausage."  
“Don’t get offended.” Frank asks, “I’m truly grateful of your attempts in… don’t know what you’re doing, but still.”  
“Shut up, May used to do this stuff.” Ray grunts and points at the door.  
“Throwing in the complicated break up-card? That’s clever.” Frank keeps up the smart ass attitude.  
“Seriously fuck off or I’ll stick this scoop up your ass.”  
“Frank, you better knock it off until it’s another hospital night ahead of you” Gee points out from the living room where he’s adorably fumbling with an old acoustic guitar, trying to get few right chords out of it. He’s so irresistible when he concentrates on something like that, biting his lower lip, wiping his too long hair out of his face...  
“No, Gee, A minor is there, see?” Frank can’t help himself but give Gee a little help, walking to him and placing his hand at the right place.  
“There?”  
“You got it.”  
Maybe Frank keeps his hand on Gee’s a bit too long but he doesn’t even care. It’s totally accidental, he swears.  
There’s definitely not set of confusing thoughts about how that hand should be somewhere else than on the guitar neck rushing through his head, not at all.  
“Man, I suck” Gee grins and looks for another chord, “I will never learn.”  
“Bullshit. You just have to practise.” Frank contradicts and fixes Gee’s arms position slightly, pulling his shoulder back a bit. “Sit straight, don’t just lie on the guitar, you know what I mean?” He tries to counsel helpfully and sits on the floor in front of Gerard.  
(You could lie on me if you’d want to, Frank thinks.)  
“But then I won’t see where to put my fingers.” Gee whines.  
“It’s not about seeing” Frank explains patiently, “It’s about feeling. You have to get to know your instrument.”  
“Poetic” Gee mumbles but keeps trying even if he doesn’t succeed at first.  
“I’m serious about this” Frank assures, “Come on. Close your eyes and really feel the guitar.”  
“You’re fucking with me.”  
(I wish I was.)  
“Death serious, I swear to my mother’s name.” Frank promises and puts his hand on his chest. “Now do as you’re told.”  
The older guy seems very sceptical, but obeys.  
If they were alone, Frank might do something very dumb. I mean, he reasons, the situation is highly tempting, Gee with his closed eyes and mouth that’s tightly shut (Frank would love him to relax a bit) but luckily Ray’s cooking in the kitchen and leaves them no privacy.  
It’d be probably very terrible in the end, Frank guesses. Gee would just freak out and hit him with the guitar or something like that.  
“Sorry Frankie, but I’m not getting your spiritual vibes here. This is dumb.”  
“Just give it a try. Play.”  
“I can’t, because I fucking don’t see anything.” Gee complains.  
“Do you have to see something when you sing?” Frank asks cleverly, “It’s the same thing, but instead of your mouth, you’re using the guitar.”  
(I’d love to make you use your mouth with me.)  
“I really don’t see the point here.”  
“Just play.” The midget demands.  
Gee still frowns, uncomfortable with the situation and probably suspecting that Frank's planning to perform some practical joke on him or something. But slowly his fingers feel their way along the strings, looking for a place to weigh.  
Frank touches lightly the back of his student’s hand and feels him shiver, (only from the surprise, he tells himself) and directs his fingers on the right spot. He lets a small, heartbreakingly sweet smile on his pretty face. Frank thinks it lights up the whole apartment like a candle.  
“You’re starting to feel it?” Frank nearly whispers, inferring it’s only because of the fucking pneumonia thing he’s almost forgotten about.  
“I think” the redhead replies unsurely, and strums the guitar, letting out a shaky, but clear E.  
“There you go” Frank encourages and pats Gee’s head, getting up from the floor. “It won’t take long until you’re like Jimi Hendrix. Or Ray, which is basically the same thing anyways.”  
“Thanks, asshole” there’s a shout from the kitchen.  
“You’re welcome, dickhead” Frank replies, “How’s the cooking going?”  
“Absolutely wonderful.” Ray scowls. “I think you’ll die if you eat this. Precisely like I planned.”  
“You wanna order Chinese?” Frank pities his friend, shows some mercy.  
“Oh, god, yes.”  
Frank hears the master chef ditching the pan in to the sink and letting some water on it. “I’ll never try to do that shit again.”  
Gerard sighs and gives in with the training for tonight. Frank honestly doubts that Gee will never be a very extraordinary with the particular instrument but hey, if it makes him happy, who is Frank to stop him? Besides, he just loves teaching Gerard.  
He could do it for the rest of his life, even if Gee would never learn a single thing.  
Frank coughs and finally remembers to take his medication, skipping the instruction paper, ‘cause that’s for wussies, right? Gee tries to chide him gently about it like a mother, but Frank turns down his care like it’s nothing.  
“You see me coughing blood?” He dismisses, “I’ll be good as new.”  
“Frank, you never were good” Gee rubs his head.  
“It’s true” Ray confirms, “We have to worry for your life like, all the time. It’s starting to get a bit obnoxious.”  
“Please don’t overstate. I’m not that weak.”  
“Remember the time you got sick from eating a whole package of ice cream and threw up violently the rest of the night so one could sleep?” Gee brings up some unpleasant memories for Frank.  
It was horrible.  
“Or when you stumbled in the stairs and fell like two floors, breaking your leg and a one rib?”  
“How could I forget? I was having the time of my life there. Especially enjoyed the part where my bones snapped.” Frank says ironically. It’s not like it’s his fault he’s a bit clumsy and has a terrible luck.  
“…The dog food incident!” Gee shouts shrilly and giggles, “I really think your face was green like in comics!”  
“Hey, it was one sick prank” Frank cries, “And it’s killing me that no one has told me which one of you it really was.”  
Gee jumps on the couch opposite Frank, kicks his leg and sneers, “And you never will.”

They spend the rest of the night like that, joking and talking about stuff they’ve done over the years and somehow Frank feels like he’s more home that he ever is at his lonely apartment.  
He’s not going to leave Gee’s place until someone makes him.  
The couch is perfectly comfortable for few more nights.


	5. I wouldn't hold my breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay so I finally kept working on this piece of crap! So proud of myself right now, even if I had to sacrifice my good night sleep for this fic. Anyways, thank you for your patience, people who have subscribed, it means so much to me. Please let me know what do you think.

“Ahhhhhh, Geeeee!” Frank screams, eyes widened, face even paler than it normally would, desperately looking for something to climb on. The only suitable thing he finds is the chair so he ends up on it, praying that he doesn’t fall – the thing is bit unsteady.  
“What?” Gee’s still half asleep and opens the door of his bedroom, wearing only his ridiculous shorts. At first Frank wants to say something about this clothing but the words stuck in to his throat. It’s probably better if he doesn’t try to joke and wind up making an unintentional innuendo. For a while Frank just pants like a fish on a dry land before stuttering with a shaky, small voice: “Kill it!”  
“Kill what?” Gerard asks and scratches his arm yawning.  
“The fucking spider!” Frank cries and points at the floor.  
Okay, it’s not that big as Frank first thought, but oh god, the long legs and hairy body… and… oh god he can’t stand to stare at it like this.  
“Please, Gee” Frank whines, “Kill it!”  
He’s probably very pitiful sight at the moment, crouching on the wonky chair, sniffing with his reddish eyes and too big clothes, a total panic burned on to his face, but he just has to make sure Gee gets rid of the uninvited visitor before he can think about anything else.  
“Okay, okay, Ron Weasley…” Gerard tries to stifle the amused grin when Frank looks at him so helpless and begging. After all Gee knows very well a serious phobia is not a laughing matter. “Wait a sec, I’ll get a piece of paper.”  
“Don’t take too long, it might eat me” Frank wishes when Gee walks to the bathroom to get his weapon that’s going to be the end of the poor spidey.  
Poor indeed, Frank thinks. It’s horrible how they seem to hunt him down wherever he goes. Maybe it’s some national conspiracy against him, to make all the eight legged, disgusting pieces of satan’s butt hair crawl after him and drive him insane.  
“Be careful.” Frank whispers when Gee returns, attacking fearlessly the little troublemaker that stays put on the floor and waits for it’s inevitable death. Gee strikes quickly, enjoying the situation and a change to be a knight maybe a bit too much. It takes like two seconds ‘til the spider is only a lifeless, small dot on the carpet.  
“There you go.” Gee pretends to pant like he’s recovering from battle and wipes imaginary sweat drops from his forehead.  
Frank mumbles an embarrassed “thanks” and gets down from the chair. His heart is still beating fast and loud, and he’s positive Gee can hear it. It’d be just awesome to be able to deal with these kinds of little unpleasant surprises like a man.  
But the fucking spiders. It’s no way he’s ever going to tolerate them nearby him. He remembers the time when Bob put fake, plastic ones in Frank’s closet when he was throwing a small party at his place. Frank shrieked like a mad man, close to setting fire on his clothes. When he later asked for an explanation for the prank, all he got was: “Just to get you out of the closet, man.”  
Hilarious.  
What a jackass.  
“You want to eat something?” Gee asks, heading to the kitchen-cupboard yawning thoroughly. Frank’s sorry he had to wake Gee up so early in his day off, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he’s just walking around half naked and letting Frank admire his body, so on the second thought, Frank’s not sorry at all.  
“My throat is kinda sore, so no thanks.” He coughs. He really isn’t hungry. One of the benefits of being constantly sick is that he doesn’t gain weight at all even though the amount of exercise is very small. Frank’s mostly very pleased with his appearance, he definitely doesn’t look like the jobless parasite he is.  
Well, he’s jobless because the last band he worked for as a supporting guitarist kicked him out for “being too initiative” and “not just fitting in with the style.” In other words, the lead singer (a total dick) was jealous because his girlfriend started to hang around the basement they practised in a lot when she first laid her eyes on Frank.  
Like Frank could help it.  
Okay, maybe he led the chick into a wrong direction a bit with flirting and stuff, but that’s just who he is. That’s what he _does._  
“You want coffee, though?” Gerard makes sure, shaking a cookie box to find out if it’s empty.  
“Obviously.”  
When the day arrives Frank says no to a cup of coffee, he’s gonna have to put a bullet through his skull. It just doesn’t go very well with his artistic, easygoing look. Frank’s the kinda guy who does absolutely nothing and is pretty average at everything he does, but somehow everyone still loves him. Everybody knows Frank, he’s invited to every party and nobody gets offended if doesn’t bother to show up. It’s the perfect way of life for him.  
He’s not like Gee, the introvert and lonely wolf kind of type, who’s just so good at everything and also very bad at many things. Like normal, social situations sometimes.  
It’s okay, Frank loves Gee anyway. In a platonic way of course.  
“So, you’ve been drawing lately?” Frank starts the conversation, sitting at the table. Gee hands him the cup of liquid heaven (it’s even better when it’s made by Gee) and sits opposite him.  
“A bit.” He admits shyly, always so modest about his art.  
“I wanna see.” Frank demands like thousands times before even though he knows it’s a thin hope. All he ever sees is quick sketches and outlines, never the final results. Gee keeps them locked away in a big box that’s under his bed, and the key is usually hanging from his neck in a chain. He says the box contains the work of years, paintings and drawings from the age of twelve. You could say his whole soul is locked in that box.  
Frank’s not ashamed to confess what a curious rascal he is. If he’d been given the change to look inside that box, even if it would cost the anger of months from Gee, he probably still would.  
Just for the sake of it. Seeing Gee.  
Okay, Frank sees Gee pretty well at the moment, since he’s still not wearing anything else but the legendary shorts, but still.  
“You know I’m not gonna show them.” Gee states, sipping his drink.  
“Maybe some day.” Frank says full of hope.  
“We’ll see.” Gee agrees doubtingly and stretches his whole body, accidentally hitting Frank’s upper thigh with his leg. Frank turns to stare over his shoulder at the living room just to cover his outrageous blushing the quick touch had lead to.  
Just why. Oh god.  
“Sorry.” Gee stutters and slams the cup in front of him in hurry, causing it to spill hot coffee all over the table and ruining some formal-looking papers, probably totally ignored, unopened bills and reminders.  
“Oh fuck.”  
Frank gets up to dodge when Gee makes a desperate attempt to save even a few of those things he will need in the future in the part of responsible adult he’s slowly starting to become. He grabs as many letters and papers as he can and dashes them in Frank’s hand.  
“Sorry – “Gee keeps repeating while looking for something to wipe the table with. Frank takes off his hoodie and gives it willingly for a quest as kitchen rag. It’s filthy anyways, he’s been wearing it for like six weeks in a row now.  
“Thanks, and sorry again.” Gee mumbles while awkwardly drying the table. “I guess you’re not the only clumsy one.”  
“No prob. Stop apologising.” Frank asks.  
“Sor – oh yeah, right.” Gee ‘s red as a fucking fire truck and Frank knows he hates these kind of situations where he’s sort of humiliated even though he’s done nothing horribly wrong. It’s always been hard for Gee to stand mistakes for some reason. I guess he hasn’t made them that much. Frank would’ve been dead if he didn’t learn to laugh at himself from the age of six.  
His life motto is: laugh before they do.  
“It was not my coffee you spilled.” Frank grins and puts the papers carelessly on the small stand that’s behind him. He’s already feeling cold, the old Joy Division t-shirt is not enough to keep the cold outside. He wonders how Gee doesn’t freeze alive walking around like it’s fucking July. Now Frank has to borrow one of Gee’s jackets.  
It’s not like he planned this or anything, it’s not like he wanted to wear one of those lovely, warm, comfy things that smell like Gerard. If Gee’s a jacket slut, then Frank’s a slut for Gee’s jackets.  
He smothers a giggle.  
“What are you laughing at?” Gee asks, passing Frank his coffee and waving them to go to the living room since he’s too tired too clean the mess up right now.  
“At you.” Frank confesses.  
“Why?” Gee wants to know, rubbing his arms and finally seeming to realize what he’s wearing or rather, what he’s not wearing.  
“I don’t know man. You’re funny.” Frank says non-specifically. Well, “funny” is not the first word to usually pop in mind when he thinks about Gerard. Sure, he has a great sense of humour, but to Frank he’s more like that something, that detail in a movie or a book that wants to make you watch it. Gee is like, the plot twist of Frank’s life.  
This crush is getting fucking ridiculous and out of hand. Frank reminds himself from the teenage girl diary he has to get if this keeps getting worse like it apparently is. He can write Gee’s name inside little pink hearts and decorate them with glitter.  
Gee goes for quick visit in his room and Frank’s grateful for the short moment he can spend silently giving himself a prep talk not be total jackass around his best friend. He tries to find a good spot on the more than familiar couch what is becoming his fondest place nowadays. Frank wonders if he could just sink inside the piece of furniture and stay there forever.  
He could take being a couch potato on a whole new level.  
Gee returns with a pair of adorable, too big sweatpants and a huge t-shirt on him, still a bit down from the accident few minutes ago.  
“I’m so awkward” he complains, “and it doesn’t matter when I’m around you or the other guys, but I hate it when I do it public.”  
“Shut up” Frank kicks Gee’s leg teasingly, “It’s always me who fucks up around other people. Not you.”  
“Yeah okay, but you can deal with it!” Gee whines, wrapping his arms around his knees, “You never stop smiling. I swear to god you were grinning when you fell down the stairs back then. Are you a fucking Buddha or something?”  
“Referring me as a fat, drowsy asian guy isn’t exactly a compliment, you know.” Frank replies.  
“I don’t see why not.” Gee lifts his shoulders innocently, raising his eyebrows just slightly to tell how he’s secretly very glad Frank’s not giving him the change to collapse into self-pity and overthinking. Those are the things Gee knows how to do.  
There’s days, when Gee really feels like everything’s about to fall apart, that’s how low his fragile self-esteem gets from little things. Though it’s not a surprise, it’s always been that way, since the childhood. Mikey was born with a constant poker face and learned to ignore all the unimportant stressors of the environment in an early age, whereas Gerard was always very sensitive and reacted strongly to things that looked like trifles to others.  
He gets easily sad and asphyxiated by his own mind, so it’s great he has someone here to remind him there’s nothing seriously wrong with him. He’s just one awkward person, and one awkward person hasn’t ever been an end of the world.  
“So, you’re free all day?” Frank enquires, trying very hard to make it sound as casual as possible and Gee agrees by nodding. Even though he mostly likes his job in the comic store, it’s a relief to get a day off once in a while. He’s a patient person, but advising some pretentious hipster college-students seven times a day where to find the newest collection of some “not-mainstream” indie comics (or whatever) when they could just as well use their eyes and look for the book themselves puts his nerves on a test now and then. It’s not all bad though. When it’s quiet, he can draw, read and drink coffee as much as he likes and there’s no one to stop him. His manager is called Goofy, a middle aged, gray man with inexhaustible source of terrible puns, and Gee’s never had the balls to ask where the nickname comes from.  
On the other hand, he doesn’t really care.  
All he knows is that Goofy is convinced Gee’s an upcoming star of the comic sky, and he does his everything to “help and support a young drawer”. Practically this means paying too much and letting him leave work early if he wants to.  
Not a bad job at all.  
“It’s actually nice” Frank grins, “To have you here. I feel like we haven’t talked properly for a long time.”  
“True.” Gee admits. It’s not like they have much to talk about though. Nothing interesting going on at the moment, like, not at all.  
“So, what have you been up to besides the working and drawing?” Frank starts the friendly conversation and it makes Gee feel childishly happy that someone’s so attracted to him, that someone really wants to know what’s going on.  
Not much, Gerard has to say and cause a disappointment.  
“Nothing new, nothing special. How about you? Any news from the groupie that stalked you for months after you broke up with the band?” Gee remembers to ask about the stuff. Frank laughs, rubbing his neck thoughtfully.  
“No, haven’t heard from Dina for weeks. I guess she found someone else to obsessive over, thank god.”  
“You have to admit” Gerard pressures knowingly, “you kinda enjoyed having a fangirl of your own.”  
“Damn, you know me to well.” Frank grins winking at Gee and biting his lip, throwing in his best playboy act. What would Gee do if he’d know it’s not just an act anymore? Better not think about it too much.  
“Okay, Dina’s done then. What about the nurse who drove you home?” Gee asks, “Was she hot?”  
“I don’t know, I guess” Frank stutters even though the word “hot” never came into his mind. Well, I guess Jamia is hot, at least to some people, but Frank mostly saw her as a cool person, not a hot one.  
“Nothing going with her either, if that’s what you’re implying” Frank assures. He knows it’s not going to be plausible for Gee and Frank to be together, like ever, but still Frank’s not willing to let Gee think Frank’s with someone else.  
Just in case.  
“Forever alone” Gee laughs, “hey, I feel you man.”  
(I wish you would, Frank thinks and bites his tongue crossly. It hurts.)  
They share a fist pump like proper bro’s, then deciding to open the tv.  
Frank feels so nice, being able to share things with Gee like this, just spend some time together, it’s almost enough to satisfy the need for Gee’s presence and company. It’s just that he’s like never having fully of Gee for his needs.  
It’s like Gee’s a drug and Frank’s planning on overdose.  
Fucking hell he needs to calm down before there’s happening some random musical performance in the apartment like in some romantic comedy or something. Life is not a movie, Frank’s not a moron and sadly, (apparently) Gee is no into dudes, so it’s a complete waste of time to drool over him like some creep.  
They’re friendship should mean more to Frank.  
Anyhow, he finds himself blankly staring at the key that’s hanging from it’s chain in Gee’s neck more than it’s normal and he can confess, that he wants to see Gee so badly, it’s crossing the line of normal.


	6. It's just one more thing I'll regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like it! :) Thank you for reading this crap. I'm still kinda shocked how many people have shown their interest in my fics. It's truly amazing and I love every single one of you people who read this.  
>  Have a nice day, whoever you are. ♥

“So Frank’s living here permanently then.” Mikey notes when he’s taking off his jacket. His hair is wet and he smells like chemicals.  
“Pretty much.” Gee agrees pretending like it’d be an unpleasant thing and turns up his nose. “Where have you been? You smell like – “  
“I know, I know!” Mikey’s grumpy and he begins to unbutton his shirt that’s covered in some splashes of god knows what. “I had to stand in for Alicia today in the interior section. You know I’m not good at some decoration shit.”  
“I’m hoping that that’s paint.” Gee catches the shirt Mikey throws at him.  
“Yeah it is. Wanna know the funny story behind how it ended up on my clothes?” Mikey snarls and opens his belt.   
Frank who’s reading on the floor, turns his back at Mikey just to be, you know, tactful. Not that Mikey would mind, but still.  
“Do I want to know?” Gee points out, holding in a laughter. Frank can hear it bubbling somewhere in Gee’s throat.  
“Some granny got pissed.” Mikey takes of his jeans and stands in the messy hall practically naked, only wearing his underwear. “Dunno why.”  
“Oh Mikey” Gee sighs amused, “What did you say?”  
“I honestly don’t know. I mean, do normal people get angry so easily?” The little brother wonders, stroking his hair from his face.  
Frank wonders why Mikey even got the job from the mall in the first place. He wouldn’t describe Mikey as a guy who’s good at customer service. Well, Mikey needs some cash. Don’t they all? Besides it helps, that Alicia works there too and mostly keeps Mikey out of trouble.  
When she’s not hangover.  
“Man, spit it out” Gee coaxes, “Make my day brighter with your wisdom.”  
“I just said that this one paint colour would match with her skin, that’s all!” Mikey whines.  
“And I bet that colour was grey?”  
“Well – “  
Frank and Gee burst in uncontrollable laughter and Mikey seems to be instantly regretting he even said anything.   
“Fuck you, guys. I’m getting a shower.”   
Someone knocks on the door lightly and it’s been pushed ajar. Mikey didn’t close it properly behind him.  
For Frank’s ultimate horror, it’s his mother who stands behind it, a frozen smile on her face while the first thing she sees stepping in the apartment his beloved son is dwelling at the moment, is Mikey Way’s black shorts and a naked back and shoulders.   
“MOM!” Frank shrieks terrified and hopes that Mikey has the sense to run as fast as he can.   
“Oh, pardon” Mrs. Iero apologizes already halfway back to the stairway, “I think I’m interrupting something.”  
“Oh f- MOM no! This is not what it – “ Frank stops when he realizes it’s maybe better if he doesn’t say what he was about to. He just begs that his mom will buy that they’re not in fact having a gay orgy.  
“Mikey was just going to shower, his clothes are dirty!” Frank stutters and it sounds kinda stupid. Better than nothing.  
“Oh honey, you don’t have to explain!” Linda Iero is already leaving, “I can come back another time!”  
“No, mom, come in, please!” Frank cries, “You’re not interrupting an org… anything!”  
“Yes, Mrs. Iero, please, I’ll make some tea!” Gee accompanies, “Mikey’s already gone to shower!”  
And he’s not leaving the bathroom until Frank’s mom leaves, Frank’s guessing. Mikey’s seriously having a terrible day today.  
“Well, if I’m really not being a burden.” Linda hesitates.  
“Surely not, how could you?” Frank assures her, leading his mom strongly back to the apartment. He pulls her a chair and Gee starts to make a cup of tea, back at them so that Frank’s mom doesn’t notice how close Gerard is cracking up hysterically again.  
Well, then fun doesn’t last long. Frank’s just sighed from relieve and kicked Mikey’s clothes under the couch, when his mom decides to ask: “So, you two are living together nowadays?” Gee nearly drops the mug he was holding.  
“No, mom – “ Frank’s stressed, “I’m just hanging around here ‘cause I’m ill. I still have my own place.” He ignores the presumption behind his mother’s words and resists the temptation to say that’s Gee’s taking care of him.  
“Oh” Linda makes an understanding noise, “Well isn’t that great. You have wonderful friends, darling.”   
“Yes, I’m very lucky” Frank grins and Gee frowns at him behind Linda’s back. “To have friends like Gee.”  
Frank knows very well he’s laughing at a joke he probably only gets himself because if this situation would be in Frank’s hands, they would something much more than friends, Gee and him.  
“Why are you here anyway?” Frank demands, and his mom takes the tea cup Gee carefully offers her. With nothing to do, Gee decides to leave the little family for a while, awkwardly inching to the living room.  
“Your lovely friend Robert phoned me the other day when you were in the hospital. I’ve been trying to reach you, but you didn’t answer.” Mrs. Iero’s voice is a bit accusative. “So I thought that if I’d like to talk to you, I’d better come here and check on you personally.”  
“Sorry mom” Frank mumbles a bit ashamed and curses all the times he ignored his ringing phone because he had something better to do, “I don’t think my phone works properly.”  
“It’s okay, darling, I know your financial situation isn’t the best at the moment” Linda tries to console his son but only makes him uncomfortable. Frank’s always hated talking about money. There’s so much more in life. Sadly money is all Frank’s mom ever talks about. Frank guesses it’s just a part of her profession as a bank counsellor, but it still annoys the shit out of him.  
“No, I’m doing fine, I have savings and you know, stuff” Frank lies without blinking an eye. It’s not like he’s going to wind up in a street or something. As said before, he has some friends, and at the moment he can even afford his own crappy place.   
“Any possible jobs?” Linda inquires like this would be just another customer, “Or have you maybe been in interviews?”  
“I broke with the band like couple of weeks ago, I’m not starving, I have some cash!” Frank scowls and knows immediately it was a mistake. His mom’s mouth turns into a thin line like always when she’s worried.  
“The band, yes…” Linda snorts rather scornfully considering she married a musician herself (even though the marriage ended almost twenty years ago but still.)  
“Yes, my former band.” Frank confirms, pretending that he doesn’t care what his mother thinks.  
“Honey, you know I support you whatever you do” Linda starts subtly, “but the music thing has not been very successful so far. I’m just concerned that you’re wasting your time.”  
“Nah, you’re just annoyed because my “teenage phase” isn’t over yet or something.”  
“That’s not true, honey.” Mrs. Iero denies, crossing her hands on her chest. Frank bets that Gee is desperately looking for his headphones right now. He hates listening to other peoples arguments. Especially family ones.  
“Okay, okay” Frank humbles. His mom didn’t have to come all the way to fight with her son. And sure, it’s natural that she’s worried. There’s just no reason. “I’ll find a proper job. When I’m well again.”  
“I know, honey.” Linda grins and reminds Frank of himself, “You’re not a dumb boy, not at all.” She pats Frank’s cheek and takes a zip from the tea, immediately spitting it back to the cup. “Interesting taste…” She mumbles.  
“Sorry” Frank laughs, “Gee is not exactly an experienced host.”  
“Oh but he’s such an adorable chap!” Linda praises, “I’m so glad you’ve found someone like him to stand by your side.”  
“Mom” Frank rubs his forehead, “You know we’re not a couple, right?”  
“If you say so, Frankie.” Frank’s mom smirks and winks suddenly looking fifteen years younger. Frank can hear Gee breaking something in the living room.   
“Yeah, well…” Frank tries to change the subject, “How are you doing?”  
“Wonderful, not a reason to complain.” Mrs. Iero announces maybe a bit too quickly it to be believable and gets up to empty the cup in the sink. She glances a bit judgingly at the piles of dirty dishes on the table for a while but she doesn’t say anything.  
Frank just hopes that the next time his mom decides to burst through the door, she’ll warn first so that Frank would have the time to clear half-naked Mikeys and all the other stuff from his bohemian life that are not meant for his mother’s eyes out of the way.  
“Good to hear.” Frank replies and wonders, when did their discussions turn into this meaningless small talk?   
“You’ve been sick again…” Linda sighs. “I remember when you were just a little boy. Always sneezing and having a cold. I stayed up many nights to make you some soup and cacao.”   
Frank remembers too and suddenly it occurs to him he has missed his mom a lot. Besides all the stupid arguments and daily disagreements they have, Frank still loves his mother a lot. Mom took care of him on her own, raised him to dream big and work to achieve his goals. She never told Frank what he should do, she just gave advices and watched while Frank obviously did the exact opposite. She stood by Frank’s side when he decided to drop out of college and she even helped him to get his first own apartment.  
There’s nothing Frank wants more to make his mom proud. He’s the only son she has, and he may not be the best one, but he’s family.  
Frank gets up and hugs her randomly, pressing his face against his mom’s shoulder like he did when he was a kid. He’s still a lot shorter than mom, of course.  
He pretends it’s mostly because of her high heels, not because Frank’s a dwarf.  
He’s not a dwarf.  
He’s just pocket-sized awesome.  
“You’re my boy.” Linda laughs and squashes Frank so that he can barely breathe. “And I know you’ll manage.” She lets go of Frank and pokes his forehead. “After all, you’re my blood, which means you’re smart. We’re survivors, you know. Me and you.”   
“Okay, mom” Frank agrees, “at least you are.”  
“And you aren’t?” She grins brushes some crumbs of bread from Frank’s shirt. “You know how many times you’ve almost gotten yourself killed? My precious, clumsy little Frankie.”  
“I’m not clumsy!” Frank whines.  
“Bullshi – I mean – “ Gee blushes, suddenly standing by the door behind them, “You’re one of the clumsiest guys I’ve ever met. Sorry Mrs. Iero.”  
“No, no, don’t apologize for your language” Linda lifts her shoulders and shakes her head, “It’s true. Frank, listen to your partner.”  
“He’s my friend” Frank corrects with a suffering tone, “My friend.”  
“Oh, yes, sure. Sorry.” Linda puts a finger on her lips like she’s promising to keep a secret. Gee changes his weight from a foot to another.   
“Right…” Frank mumbles and coughs, lungs and throat getting all sore again from using his voice. What was the last time he took his pills?  
“So, how long are you going to stay in town?” Gee asks politely trying to fill the silence. He hates awkward situations more than anything in this world.   
Mikey has spent the last half an hour in the shower and Gee suspects he’s probably trying to drown himself. It’s not the younger Way’s day today.  
Gerard wonders what is must feel like, when your friend’s mom is practically seen you naked? He assumes that it’s a very disturbing feeling.  
“Oh not long, I just dropped by to see my little Frankie” Mrs. Iero answers merrily. “I have work tomorrow.”  
“Would you like to join us in the evening?” Gee offers while Frank who’s gone to wash his mom tea cup by the sink, makes a sharp turn and signs terrified at Gee, making a line over his throat with his finger.  
“No thank you, my darling, but that’s so nice of you.” Linda pats Gee’s shoulder and even though Gerard usually hates strangers touching him, it’s kinda nice to feel accepted by someone.  
Sometimes he feels like he’s permanently stuck with the mental age of seven.  
“What are you children doing anyway?” Mrs. Iero inquires and glances at her wristwatch. She’s a busy woman, an excellent example of modern day’s stylish lady. Even though she doesn’t roll around in money, her clothes are always clean and good-looking and her hair is always neat and close to perfection.  
Frank keeps wondering how did a son of this woman wind up looking like a walking dumpster most of the time. Thank god Frank’s pretty handsome, otherwise he’d look like shit and no one would ever date him.  
No one would ever date him anyway, but it doesn’t bother him that much. As long as he has someone to call for a dinner or a bar night when he’s feeling a bit down.  
It’s actually not that bad to be a loner.   
“I think we’re having a movie night once again.” Gee explains, leaving out the tiny detail they’re planning on watching Gee’s horror movies this time. It’s his turn to choose. Frank’s looking forward to it, no one else isn’t.  
“Oh, that’s very romantic. I hope you have fun.” Mrs. Iero smiles.  
“Ehh” Gee scratches his neck, confused.  
“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you…” Frank sighs deeper than ever and coughs again, drying his hands on some kitchen towel after washing and putting the cup in it’s place in a closet.   
“…You’re not couple, I know, I know” Linda Iero lifts her palms and rolls her eyes, “I understand. After all, this is a bit conservative state – “  
“MOM!”  
“Oh, fine, fine, if it bothers you so much.” Frank’s mom walks to his stressed out son and gives him a final hug and kiss on the cheek. “I got to run already. It was nice to see your pretty face.”  
“It was nice to see you too, mom” Frank replies, squeezing his eyes shut, “But you’re annoying as hell.”  
“Well at least we know where he got that from.” Gee points out and is the next one to get a warm, motherly hug from Frank’s mom.  
“Take care, darlings!” Linda Iero wishes and then she’s gone, only a small trace of her sweet perfume left behind.  
“Family is the worst.” Frank complains and throws himself on the couch. Gee’s grinning and nods knowingly. “Yeah, hey, I have to deal with Mikey in daily basis.”  
Speaking of which, the younger Way brother creeps from the bathroom wearing only a towel and whispers: “Is she gone?”  
“Yeah” Frank replies, laughing at Mikey’s miserable face.  
“I’m never leaving this building again.” Mikey swears and sneaks towards Gee’s bedroom door in the attempt to steal few of his clothes.   
“That means I have to move out.” Gee whines. “There’s enough of your ugly face already around here. But to live with you? Fucking never again, I swear.”  
“Shut up, mr. loud wanker, I had to listen to your suspicious sounds through the paper-thin walls for solid sixteen years.” Mikey snaps.  
Frank laughs, mostly at Gee’s embarrassed face.  
“What do you think, did your mom bought that we’re not living in some weird polyamory relationship including my brother?”  
“Probably not. She still thinks we’ve been secretly dating behind her back for the last couple of years.”  
(I wish, Frank thinks to himself.)  
“I don’t even mind” Gee lifts his shoulders underrating, “Your mom’s sweet. I’d love her to be my mother in law.”  
There’s something happening in Frank’s stomach. He stares at Gee’s calm profile thinking very, very hard was that what Gee just said just a joke or a sudden and casual confession of love. He really hopes it was, to be honest.  
“So you’d like to date me then?” Frank offers with a shaky voice.  
“What?”  
“What?”  
“Nothing.” Frank would like to kick his own ass if possible. Idiot. Idiot. A complete fucking moron.  
“Hey, wanna watch the movie?” Gee suggests without looking at Frank.  
“Yeah of course.”


	7. I hope I die before they save my soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally kept working on this, thank you for your patience! :) I really hope that you like it.

The next morning Frank wakes up unpleasantly; he’s in a fever, he’s cold and shaky and he’s alone in the flat again. Like a walking dead he crawls to the bathroom and remembers vividly how things went down the last time he felt this ill.  
Cursing his terrible immune system and bad genes, he takes his pills and dreams of the morphine he had in the hospital, because dude… That was great.  
This is not.  
He’s having a big enticement to call Gee and ask him to leave work early so he could come and nurse Frank, but that would be too fucking weird.  
Instead, he decides to write the fucking diary he planned earlier. Just because this crush is definitely getting out of hand and it’s driving Frank insane. Frank’s never been the hesitating or shy type; usually when he finds someone attractive, he makes the first move and tries his luck.  
He’s just never had feelings for any of his friends before, not to mention best friend.  
And it fucking sucks.  
“Dear Diary.” Frank grins at himself as he writes down the first words with his unclear handwriting to the empty notebook he managed to find in Gee’s living room drawer. “Yesterday I almost shat myself because I thought he asked me to date me.”  
He bites the end of the pen considering the next words.  
“I have no idea how long I’ve been feeling like this. Might be since I first met him. I mean, at least he’s been hot since then (I can’t think of way how he couldn’t be hot), so supposedly I’ve wanted to fuck him since then too. It’d be just hell of a lot easier if it was just that. I mean, it’s awkward to find him so attractive but what makes it even more awkward is that I really like, have feelings for him. Not friendly feelings. If you understand.”  
Frank stares at the words he just wrote and he would laugh if it wouldn’t hurt so much. His throat is on fire again.  
“Anyway, it’s all just daydreaming. Well, I don’t think he’d turn me down if he was drunk enough and I’d keep saying “no homo” or something bullshit like that, but it’s not like I want to get the taste of him like that. I want him to feel the same things towards me as I do to him, but I don’t really think he does.”  
Frank rolls his eyes.  
“Another difficulty in this situation is that everyone already thinks that we’re friends with benefits or something. I can only imagine Bob’s face if we started dating or something. He’d laugh so hard he’d piss himself. I hate being a joke like that. And this comes from a guy who’s writing a diary about his hopeless obsession over his best friend, Jesus Christ, what the hell am I doing with my life…”  
Frank closes the notebook and mumbles to himself: “Mom would be so proud.”  
He’s looking for a place to hide the notebook when Gee arrives, an unexpected visitor following him.  
It’s the chick from the hospital, Jamia or something.  
“Hey” Gee says with a confused voice, “Jenny here says that she knows you.”  
“Jamia” Jamia corrects and crosses her hands looking judgingly around the apartment, “and yeah,I know Frank.”  
Gee looks at Frank like asking for help.  
“Yeah, it’s cool, she does…” Frank mutters hiding the book behind his back, “but that doesn’t really explain why she’s here, though.” He frowns at Jamia.  
“I was on my business nearby when you popped into my mind. I thought I’d drop by.”  
“How did you –“  
“She practically attacked me” Gee whines, “She just… kept asking if I knew you until I had to let her in. I thought she was either a very obsessive fangirl or some mafia hit man.”  
“Well, she’s a nurse.” Frank laughs. “Calm down.”  
“Yeah sorry about the shock, sweetheart” Jamia pats Gee’s cheek without looking at him, “I’m very straightforward sometimes.”  
She looks thoughtful for a moment until she mutters: “If you know what straight means.”  
“As fun as I remembered.” I smirk. “You want some coffee?”  
“Please.”  
Gee slides off to the kitchen to recover from his traumas.  
Without asking for permission, Jamia sits on the couch like she’s home and Frank can’t help but like her very much. She’s taking cool to a whole new level and the sudden silence doesn’t seem to bother her at all. She just keeps viewing the place and plays with her hair.  
“So, I’m alive.” Frank notes and sits next to her, sliding the notebook under the couch for a moment.  
“Barely” Jamia lets out an unpleased hiss and punches Frank’s arm lightly, “You look like shit.”  
“It’s just fever.” Frank assures.  
“You shouldn’t be having fever. You should be recovering.”  
“I am!” Frank swears.  
“Yeah sure, sure….” Jamia pokes Frank’s forehead. “You, my friend, are one pitiful sight.”  
“Not so pitiful that complete strangers usually get interested in my things, thank you very much.” Frank notes and stretches his arms, enjoying the relaxed way they can talk like they’ve known for ages, “so I think I’m gonna need an explanation.”  
“For what?” Jamia grins and that’s the first time Frank sees her smile. She has a funny smile, like the cunning fox in children stories.  
“For why the fuck you’re in my… I mean, my friend’s apartment.”  
Frank hates himself for a moment to beginning to feel like he already lives here. He can’t get used to it. It’s too comfortable and at some point he really does have to go to his own place.  
Home is something he can’t really call the crappy flat he officially lives in.   
“Oh, I don’t know, pretty boy.” Jamia actually laughs, barking like a dog. “I’d assume you get stalkers like me every day with those hazel eyes.”  
Frank kicks her a bit.  
“Shut up and tell the real reason.” He demands but can’t help but feel a little flattered.  
Well, Frank knows he’s handsome, but it’s always nice to hear that from someone every once in a while. Even if it might be slightly sarcastic.  
“Okay, okay, grumpy.” Jamia sighs, “I’m on a mission to check you out, honestly.”  
“Meaning?” Frank laughs confused. Gee’s taking suspiciously long with the coffee and is probably listening to them carefully.  
“Well, I recognised you” She admits. “You played in this band, right?”  
“I did…” Frank agrees, still not quite sure what the hell Jamia’s talking about.   
“I saw few of your gigs, they were cool.” Jamia says and Frank gets the feeling it might be a big compliment to be called “cool” for someone like Jamia.  
“So you’re a fangirl after all!” Frank teases, still not quite believing it. “Do you want my autograph or something?”  
“Shut the fuck up and let me finish!” Jamia whines embarrassed, apparently very uncomfortable when compared to some kind of a groupie, “I’m in a band too. And we’re looking for a lead guitarist.”  
Frank tries very hard to hide how eager he’s about it. Play it cool…  
“Oh” He settles to say.  
“So, I’m kinda, spying on you to figure out if you’re suitable.” Jamia shrugs, not showing any sign she’s gonna apologize for lying.  
To be honest, Frank didn’t expect that, so it’s fine.  
“What kind of music do you play, then?” Frank pretend like he’d need more specific knowledge about the band before joining. And hell he needs. He’s missed the playing with some group so much he’d probably join in some country band right now if they’d ask.   
He’s allergic to country. Possibly more allergic than he is to nuts.  
They chat about the band for a while. As it turns out, Jamia is a drummer and also the only chick in the group. She throws in names so quickly Frank can’t quite get a hold of them, but they sound like an interesting people and you could infer that Jamia’s friends must be very colourful personalities. Frank’s getting kind of enthusiastic.  
Things will sort out, after all. If everything goes well, he’ll be doing what he loves in the near future again and it’s all gonna be fine.   
Oh, and he’ll also get paid. Not much, but Frank doesn’t ask for much. He just asks for enough to buy food and cigarettes with.   
And possibly pay for rent.  
“You wanted some coffee?” Gee finally leaves the kitchen, apparently still kind of afraid of Jamia, handing her the cup like it’d burn his palm. He gives the other cup to Frank and they share a short eye contact, and during Frank grins calmingly, telling Gee with his face that Jamia’s fine and Gee should not be so reticent.  
“Thanks.” Jamia takes the cup and tastes the coffee carefully. “I hope I can count on that he’s not trying to poison me?” Jamia assures, looking at Frank.  
“Well…” Frank shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell. He’s a bit psycho.”  
Gee gives Frank a little grin and seems to relax because of the atmosphere. He’s usually very reserved around people he doesn’t know.  
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to steal your man.” Jamia consoles Gee and Frank’s really getting sick of telling people they’re not together. He’s planning on taking a “not a couple” tattoo on his arm that he could just show whenever needed.   
He doesn’t have the time to reply to Jamia, when Gee does it for him:  
“You go ahead, I have a girlfriend.”  
It feels like the whole room is full of noise, Frank can’t hear anything, he just stares at Gee and thinks: OH FUCK. OH NO. NO.  
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Jamia informs Frank.  
“I need to- “Frank gets up, possibly pushing over something, he can’t be sure, “…puke.”  
He runs to the bathroom, holding his hands against his mouth.   
OH NO, OH FUCKING NO.  
The only clear thought in his head right now is how he should’ve guessed it, of course. A guy like Gee? Not gonna be able to be single in a city like this for long. He works in a fucking customer service job, he meets a lot of people every day and roughly about ninety percent of them assumingly wants to get in his pants, so what is the big surprise here?  
Gee has met some nice girl, the girl has bought him coffee, it’s all very clear.  
And yet Frank doesn’t want to believe it.  
He throws up violently when his body reacts strongly to the shock, not-taking care of himself and the awful coffee Gee made.  
Afterwards he washes his mouth and sits on the floor, wondering if he could just spend the rest of his life there. They could build a cat flap to the door and Gee could give Frank’s food through it twice a day. It could be the life for Frank.  
What a nice plan.  
Jamia’s voice finds it’s way through the door: “Frank? Are you alright?”  
Frank can here Gee jumping next to her in a panic. “Maybe he’s fainted again!” He worries. “We need to break the door!”  
“I’m okay!” Frank yells and regrets it, because it definitely makes his lungs discontent, “Just give me a minute.”  
He gets up and checks himself from the mirror above the sink. His hair is greasy, his eyes are red and swollen like he has just seen the fault in our stars and cried his heart out, and the combination of dirty t-shirt and old, holey sweatpants doesn’t really suit him.  
But what does it matter.  
He opens the door and faces two, worried faces.  
“Are you…” Gee begins.  
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Frank coughs, not looking at him. “Oh man I hate being sick.”  
They return to the living room, Frank still carefully avoiding eye connection with Gee even if it’s childish or rather suspicious. He just can’t take his worry right now.  
“So, how does a band sound like to you?” Jamia gets back to the original subject. “I mean, you have to come in for a test playing at first, but if it goes well – “  
“It’s awesome, so I’d love to” Frank assure, “But just couple of things first: I’m often ill, I have several allergies, for an example I’ll die if I eat a nut. Also, I hate spiders. And I also hate it when people call me midget or something like that. Are you okay with these things?”  
“I think so, midget.” Jamia nods. “I’ll let the guys know.”  
“Thanks, asshole.” Frank says, wondering if he can be that chatty with someone who he has barely known for couple of days, but fuck it. If they’re gonna be in a band, they’re gonna be friends. If you play in a band, you have no secrets. It’s like second family.  
Jamia seems to be okay with the “friendly insults”-stage they’ve reached in their relationship.  
There’s this video game graphic, “NEW FRIEND ACHIEVED” flashing somewhere in the back of Frank’s mind.  
“I must be going.” Jamia sighs and places her empty cup on the table, getting up and fixing her hear. “It was nice to see you, puppy.”  
“Thanks, yeah” Frank mumbles and gets up too. “I’d hug you as a good bye, but I don’t think you want to touch me right now. Not than I can blame you.”  
“Yeah, you better shower before we can recruit as a member of the band” Jamia laughs but gives Frank a short hug anyway.  
“Oh and by the way, before you go” Frank states, “what’s the name of the band?”  
“We’re called the Jersey whore.”  
“Let me guess. Your idea?”  
“Naturally.”  
Jamia leaves, giving a short glance and a wink over her shoulder just before she closes the door behind her.  
“She was fun.” Gee mutters.  
“I guess so, yeah.” Frank agrees and gets back to the couch, turning his back at the room and facing the couch. “Now, if you excuse me, I want to sleep.”


	8. I hate my weaknesses, They made me who I am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated anything for a while, but I was on a holiday in Madrid with my family. I'm home now though, and I'll be focusing on my fics again. Thanks for your patience. :)  
> Like always, it'd be awesome to hear what you think about my text.

Frank’s not even nervous when he knocks on the given address’s door. For better or for worse, he thinks. It’s better to give it a go than sit home alone and turn in to a piece of furniture.  
He left Gee’s place yesterday.  
Frank’s not specifically bitter or anything, how could he? It’s just too much to handle right now, to know it’s all been in his own mind. To know that all Gee have been implying is just a friendship – and Frank has let his imagination fool him once again.  
He’ll just keep some distance for a while and work on his feelings.  
That’s all.  
He has to move on, he’s a grown man, after all. Gee’s just another failed chance but it doesn’t mean there will be no other opportunities.  
This band thing for instance.  
Jamia opens the door and greets Frank with short grump: “You’re late.”  
“Wizard is never late.” Frank replies, wondering if anyone will get his reference.  
“You look more like hobbit to me. Come in.” Jamia gives an order.  
The guys don’t look that impressed but treat Frank friendly anyways, offering beer and asking about his history with music. Frank answers the questions as honestly as he is able and drinks the beer. He’s used of facing prejudice in these circles because of his appearance – they’re usually forgotten when he picks up the guitar.  
As well as Frank knows he’s handsome, he also knows he’s talented.  
It doesn’t make his life any easier, though.  
“Enough with the bullshit” the bassist guy with dirty dreadlocks finally says, “let’s fucking play.”  
“It’d be a pleasure.” Frank says politely and is given an old Gibson. Frank would’ve brought his own guitar, but Jamia said it has been a tradition to play with someone else’s instrument while auditioning for the group.  
So, Frank examines the instrument for a minute, takes his time getting to know it, and the inpatient drummer looks suffering.  
“Are you fucking ready?” She demands joggling with the drumsticks.  
“Hurry up, dude.” The bassist adjusts, glaring doubtingly at Frank from behind his what-used-to.be-a-hair.  
“Yeah” Frank plugs the guitar in the amp and makes the final adjustments, “What do we play?”  
The band starts before he’s entirely finished with his question.  
Frank doesn’t mind, he takes his time listening to the song they’re playing and inches in after couple of moments.  
It feels wonderful.  
Since the first time he got to hold a guitar as a kid, he’s been able to block the rest of the world out while he plays. He doesn’t care about anything else than his fingers running down the neck of his Gibson like they have will of their own. Sometimes it’s scary but it also gets him high as fuck. If there’s something Frank’s good at it, it’s music.  
Well, he’s more than good.  
And he can let it show.  
The stress of the last few weeks fades away. There’s nothing Frank cares about right now. Not about his bills, his shitty apartment, his mom, his health, his lack of decency, not even the Gee thing. the fact that Gee has found someone else and Frank’s been a totally ridiculous and – okay, maybe he cares a bit.  
“Focus, man.” Jamia yells from behind his drums, sweat rolling down her forehead.  
The lead singer’s voice is nice, Frank likes the rough tone. Well, it’s not as good as Gee’s but… What’s the last time he jammed with Gee?  
What’s the last time he jammed with anyone in general?  
Fuck, Frank’s missed this feeling. Playing alone is nothing compared to this.  
“Give us a solo” someone, Frank’s not quite sure who, asks, and he assumes it’s meant for him.  
And what does he do? Well, he gives them a motherfucking solo.  
Frank has never understood the guys who play standing still and that’s not something he’s gonna do – running around the room like a mad man he abuses his instrument, making it scream so hard he’s about to deafen himself. It doesn’t matter if all of the notes are even right, who gives a shit? It’s not about the accuracy like they’re playing classical or something. It’s about the energy and the feeling Frank is able to put it in the music like no one else.  
He’s not cocky, he just haven’t ever seen anyone play like he does. It’s his style and he’s unbearably proud of it. His style is something he’s gonna be remembered for, if something.  
When Frank plays, he’s not the frail, short kid from the corner of the playground who needs to be driven to the hospital because of allergic reaction twice a week and gets beaten up every once in a while just because it’s easy to take him in a fight – he’s not that kid anymore.  
When he plays, he’s not the jobless guy who dropped out of college not because he was too dumb, but because he was too lazy – when he plays, he’s not even the guy who has had several shitty relationships which have always ended because Frank’s inability to commit and care about someone other than himself.  
When he plays, he’s not Frank. And at the same time, he’s more Frank than ever.  
It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t know how it feels like to let go.  
His every sense is sharp and there’s a wild gleam in his eyes.  
This is how Frank wants to be remembered.  
He ends the solo with a long, whining note like the guitar would be a dying animal, groaning in agony. He’s not sure if one string has snapped but it didn’t bother him that much. He can buy a new one if someone starts to complain.  
It’s quiet for a while if you don’t count Frank’s quiet panting while he sits and puts the Gibson on the chair next to him.  
“So…?” He asks with a bit shaky voice when the silence gets too distressing.  
“I don’t think we can take you in.” The bassist finally says, scratching his neck. Something heavy hits the bottom of Frank’s stomach.  
“Oh.”  
Jamia shakes her head.  
“Man.” The bassist (he might be named Ed or something like that) continues, “You’ll make the rest of us look like crap.”  
Frank grins relieved.  
“That was…” the singer stares at Frank, “I mean, you’re unbelievable. Where all that energy comes from?”  
“I told you I’m a wizard.” Frank answers.  
“Apparently yes.” the singer’s eyes are still the size of a plate. He’s a skinny guy with naturally blond hair and pale skin which makes an interesting combo with his punky clothes. To be honest, he’s pretty damn cute. He reminds Frank a bit from Cherie Currie when she was young.  
Frank bites his lip.  
Yeah, another crush to a straight guy, awesome. Just what he needs.  
Jamia throws a drumstick at Frank and laughs.  
“Shit, I knew you were worth trying!”  
Finally also the bassist guy gives Frank a short smile and shakes his hand. “Awesome, now I’m not the shortest one of the band.”  
“So I’m in?” Frank assures.  
“I’m happy you’re not as slow when you play” the singer sighs grinning, “but yeah, you’re definitely in. Let’s drink something, my throat is on fucking fire.”  
“We’re out of booze.” Jamia notes. “And besides, I’m in a hurry. I have work to do unlike you jobless losers.”  
“I gotta go feed my dogs.” the bassist says and leaves without any more info. He’s one of those people who doesn’t really give that much from themselves but Frank’s cool with it. At least the guy can play. As well as everyone else.  
He’s really looking forward to get to know these people better.  
It looks like everything’s getting better again.  
“You wanna grab a beer?” the singer suggests, winking and Frank ads a question mark in the end of the presumption the guy’s straight in his mind.  
What does it matter?  
Frank sends a quick text for all of his friends: I’m in!” before turning off his phone.  
“Sure.”  
The singer guy (Michael aka Mic Frank finds out) is definitely not straight, unless straight guys are suddenly very into giving blowjobs to random guitarists they’re only met today in some slightly crappy bar’s bathroom.  
It’s a good blowjob though. And Frank’s way too drunk to care about if it’s a smart thing to do. After all, don’t one night stands are part of recovering from break up?  
Well, break up is maybe too dramatic but something like that. Breaking up with someone he never dated?  
Close enough.  
They stand outside Frank’s house for a long time kissing just because they can and it keeps the cold away pretty well. When Mic finally lets go of Frank and makes an weak attempt to leave, they part without any more goodbyes. It’s pretty clear for both of them they’ll be not talking about this later on.  
At least Frank hopes so.  
He thinks it as a welcome to the band or something.  
Still, he hates the way he pictured the hair in his hands red instead of blond when the guy was on his knees – Frank needs to sleep off this feeling.  
When he manages to open the door of his flat, someone’s waiting for him on his couch, someone who has the keys to the apartment.  
“Hey. I just thought I’d bring you a small gift, you know, because of the band thing…” Gee says with a weird voice and pushes a pack of chocolate in Frank’s hands, “but I’ll just go now, okay? You need to… you need to sleep.”  
He leaves before Frank is able to process the situation in his mind.  
Gee leaves the door open behind him, pressing his head down when he walks fast, hands in his pockets.  
Frank curses the window that gives a good view to the front door of the building from his living room.  
Everything’s fucked up.  
He’s not quite sure why Gee looked like what he looked like when he gave Frank his dumb little gift but Frank doesn’t care to know. It’s all messed up in his head, it’s reeling and his already having a headache.  
He fights off his jacket, dumps the chocolates in the corner of the room where they’re left looking pretty sad, and he falls on the couch, immediately passing out.  
He doesn’t understand anything anymore.  
He’s supposed to be happy, he has had the best night in a long time – but somehow, he can’t.  
“But I’ll just go now, okay?” he mumbles to himself before losing his consciousness.


	9. As I felt your pain wash over me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda hate the previous chapter myself, don't know why I went and post it... it's just so... bad. :D   
>  but yeah, I hope this one is better. I put a lot more effort in it at least. I hope it shows.

Michael or Mic whatever doesn’t call.  
Frank didn’t expect nor hoped him to.  
Frank just wants to sleep ‘til the end of the fucking world right now.   
Of course the fricking ball of afro with legs doesn’t allow him to do that, kicking the door and demanding Frank to let him in immediately. Frank doesn’t bother to use his brain to think what’s the fuss about, but manages to get up, crawling to let the uninvited guest in.  
“The fuck do you want, then?”  
“Can I come in?” Ray’s excited, eyes shining.  
“If you really have to.”  
Ray pushes Frank aside and steps in no matter how mean Frank tries to glare at him. He gives up, sighs and closes the door behind his friend.  
“Tell me everything.” Ray says, opening the fridge like he’d be at his own place.  
Frank’s thoughts don’t connect, he’s unsure and lets out a little, weird noise: “Huh?”  
He tries his best to remember how it’d be possible for Ray to know about everything. Frank’s not even sure what everything means in this case.   
Just… just everything.  
“The band!” Ray rolls his eyes.  
“Oh.”  
Frank had almost forgotten about that already. He feels a strong urge to wash his teeth, it tastes like something has died inside his mouth.   
Maybe it’s his social skills.  
“Wow, you really had a rough night last night.” Ray shakes his head, “had a real party? Lots and lots of booze? Women and weed and bad life? Danging and singing? Getting in trouble?”  
“Hgrhr.” That’s all Frank can answer since he’s puking his insides out in the bathroom he’s run to while Ray’s been informing Frank about his presumptions.  
“Well aren’t you a sunshine.” Ray points out.  
“Fuck off, Ray.” Frank washes his mouth, avoiding looking at his own face from the mirror. He knows he looks like a nightmare version of the usual. And not in a cool way.  
“Did you got laid last night?”  
Frank can feel the fever rising again.  
“Humph.”  
“You’re almost as chatty as Mikey.” Ray thinks out loud.  
“And you’re a pain in my ass.”  
“No, that’s Gerard. Get it? Ha.”  
“Hi-fucking-larious.” Frank would love to hit Ray with something heavy.  
“Sorry for hurting your feelings, little fairy.”  
Do fairies punch people, Frank wonders, crawling back to the kitchen and looking for his precious painkillers desperately. Despite his small size, he’s always taken double portions compared to normal human beings. His body seems to have a will of his own, and it’s definitely a masochist psychopath. Every time Frank feels somewhat alright, something happens, some organ fails to work, and he’s back with feeling like shit again.  
He’s consoled himself with thinking he must have some flaws since his personality is absolutely charming. If he wasn’t that easily ill, people would get so jealous at him for his perfectness that he would have no friends.

Frank smirks at himself.  
Dumb thoughts, dumb day, dumb life.  
He’s dumb. Everyone else is dumb.  
“What are you smiling at?” Ray asks knowingly.  
“It’s dumb.” Frank coughs and takes his meds with a glass of water.  
“Tell me about the band, dude, I’m like, super hyped here.”  
“Stop sounding like Gerard.” Frank tells his dumb friend. Ray means well, but his presence reminds Frank about the thing that happened last night, and he’s determinately decided to forget about that. At least for so long he doesn’t feel like flipping a table every time Gee is mentioned in a conversation.  
He’s not even sure why he’s so angry, he just is.  
“Since when you’ve called him Gerard? What are you? A married couple? Mr and Mr Way-Iero?”  
“Shut up.”  
“Way-Iero is freakishly hard to pronounce, though.”  
“I told you to shut up.” Frank’s letting a little annoyed voice inside his head mess up his thoughts. Nothing is clear, he’s just so done with this fucking mess.   
The fun part is that it’s all his own fault.  
“Woah, are you on your periods or something?”  
“Now I know why May broke up with you in the first place.” Frank lets slip and regrets it about half a second after he’s closed his mouth. Ray looks like Frank has just kicked him in the balls.   
“Dude –“   
“I’m sorry. That was… I didn’t mean to.”  
“What’s gotten into you?” Ray frowns, “You should be happy.”  
Frank has never given a flying fuck about what he should be and what he shouldn’t. This is no different case right?  
Oh well, maybe a bit.  
“I’m just ill. and extremely hangover.”  
“Must be more than that, come on, midget. Don’t lie to me.”   
Frank thanks silently all the upper and lower powers for the fact Ray’s having a good day which is making him weirdly patient. Frank couldn’t handle an argument with one of his best friends right now. Another argument.  
Is he fighting with Gee? What if he is? What the hell?  
Why did Gee look so inculpatory and blank when he left Frank’s apartment yesterday? Was it because of jealousy? The last time Frank checked, he hadn’t agreed to wait for Gee or something. Frank’s a free man. Also the fucking idiot has a girlfriend which he seemed to forget.  
Or did Frank just read the whole situation wrong? Maybe Gerard was pissed only because he had had to wait so long and Frank didn’t answer his phone.  
Just what.  
That wouldn’t be Gee’s normal behavior but on the other hand, he has never been normal. Frank’s already used of Gee being one of the most drama queen people you’ll ever meet.   
Gee’s a diva.  
A shy and sassy diva.  
Shy and sassy and artistic and funny and loyal and beautiful and trustworthy and coffee-addicted diva.  
He’s Frank’s diva.  
Used to be.  
Or how would Frank know. He’s just a mess inside. Just a mess.  
“You got something on your mind, or…?” Ray tries his best to be supportive even though it’s definitely stepping out of his comfort zone. Ray’s sympathetic face looks like he’s having a nasty diarrhea.  
“Too much actually.”  
“Wanna talk….” a deep sigh “...about it, or…”  
“Certainly no.”  
“Oh thank god.”

Frank’s not that pissed he would want put Ray through the misery of hearing how childish things bother Frank so much, when Ray has real issues in his life. Frank knows he’s being a total baby, but the whole idea of Gerard with someone else makes him feel nearly physical pain. And not even the fact the Gerard likes someone else hurt Frank, but the detail he tricked Frank to believe there might be something going on between them and forgot about it then. Yes, it’s always been an unrealistic dream to be with Gee, but somehow Frank still got the balls to hope, to dream, that someday it could just happen, naturally, like everything else had been natural between them.  
Everything had been so easy since Frank met Gerard. It’s not a feeling you can entirely explain with a friendship, or that’s how Frank’s determined to believe. It’s always been so different with Gerard –he understands Frank, listens to him when no one else does, and does his best to understand. Usually he really does.  
He also understands Frank’s impressions, the covered up fear and stress behind the smile when he feels vulnerable, and Gerard helps Frank to deal with it all. To turn his back at the world and say “fuck it” with passion.

Frank’s the one who sits listening Gerard’s self-pity and sobbing for hours not getting tired nor tell him to get a shrink. He just listens and says it’s cool. Because it is.  
More than the fear of not ever getting to be with Gerard in a romantic way, Frank’s afraid of losing Gerard. He’s afraid that things will get awkward and weird and that Gerard will start to avoid him. He’s afraid that they’ll start to date and realize it was a terrible idea and they can’t stand each other, but it’d be awful tobe friends again after that.  
Frank’s afraid it’s pretty much all his fault. Why did he have to go and get a crush on Gee in the first place? Why couldn’t he just settle up with what he already got?  
So ungrateful.  
People would kill for a friend like Gerard.  
Frank would kill for Gerard, if that’s what he’d be asked for. Still.  
Frank should stop being so dramatic. It’s just a little argument, just a crappy day.  
“I sorta wanna be alone now.” Frank asks. “Besides I might infect you.”  
“Don’t worry, shorty, I’m immune for gay.” Ray assures.  
“Damn you and your stupid hair. Get out of my apartment.”  
“Hey, man, you can insult me as much as you like but never say a bad word about the hair.” Ray strokes his source of pride gently.   
“What are you, Simson?”  
Ray doesn’t get the reference and looks confused.  
“Bible, man.” Frank disapproves the lack of knowledge. “Educate yourself.”  
“I’m not into jesus stuff you know that.”  
“You might get along with our lord and saviour. At least you definitely look like him.” Frank smart-asses once again, already feeling more cheery. Pissing people off has always given him energy.  
“I hope that someone crazy-ass doesn’t nail me into a wooden cross, thank you very much.” Ray turns down the offer.  
“Don’t be lame, Ray. Die for my sins.” Frank whines, offering Ray his jacket.  
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your sins unless you need someone to hide the body with.”   
“Like a true friend.”  
“Do you need a tissue, princess sensitive?” Ray mutters, finally leaving like Frank hoped him to.  
“No thanks.” Frank shrugs. “But I can give you a hug.”  
“You dare to touch me –“  
Ray pretends to run away from Frank’s embrace.  
“Hey” Frank’s already closing the door behind his buddy when he puts his shoe on the way to stop him, “hey, congratulations about the band thing. That was the whole point of this, I guess.”  
“Thanks man.”  
“Don’t mention it.”  
Ray waves his hand and leaves, finally, leaving Frank alone with his mind.  
A horrible idea, really. All Frank can do is to play and try to forget. Every time he begins to think about the situation he feels like he’s a disgusting, credulous little kid who’s just pretending to be an adult.  
Legally he is one, but he’s never felt like one. He’s not even sure if it should feel something. Frank refuses to grow up.  
Like his friend Jimmy used to say; you’re only young once, but you can be immature forever.  
You just need to do what you feel like. It works for so long as you’re pretty sure what you feel. The biggest dilemma here is that Frank’s not so sure what he feels at all.  
Yeah he’s used of getting left behind, for being the one everyone forgets about while they’re too busy with making other plans. He doesn’t fit in people’s lives and every time he gets a new friend, he’s subconsciously waiting for the moment the person realizes it’s not a good idea to get involved in Frank’s business. He’ll never be anything or do anything. He’ll always be like this, stay like this, not doing anything, wasting his time and opportunities like there’d be countless tomorrows. Even his own dad told him he’s not gonna live forever.  
“Yeah but I’m still young.” Frank replied with a smirk.  
“How long are you gonna be young?” his dad asked.  
“Until I stop breathing.” Frank sweared.  
He hasn’t stayed in touch with his dad that much since the mentioned conversation. Frank’s stubborn, he hasn’t changed his mind, and supposedly his dad hasn’t either.  
Fuck it.  
It’s just that for the first time in his life, Frank thought he had found someone alike when he met Gerard. A weird, pale boy in weird black clothes, shaking and unsure, somewhat hiding behind his little brother’s back all the time. Mentally, at least.  
But there was more than the fear of people Frank saw in him – it was the hunger for life. Real life. Not just doing what you’re told but to finding your own way no matter how hard it would be and how bad it would fail.  
Frank believed, believes, that when you stay honest with yourself, you can ever go wrong. And he’s not gonna lie, not even now.  
What is it, what’s going on? It’s not some teenage crush, it’s not some stupid little thought of the moment; he knows it’s different. He knows it’s big. He knows it’s killing him slowly.  
He knows he’s falling, falling for Gerard, falling in love, whatever.   
He’s falling asleep again, illness making his eyes heavy and sleepy and hangover aching in his limbs.  
He’s falling.


	10. Because I don't have anyone left here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really just come up with the plot at the same time as I write, so don't ask what's gonna happen next. I honestly don't know. (It's a Frerard fic though, not a Gerbert. And I'm a fan of happy endings, just saying.)  
>  Please keep in mind that I love Bert and I don't mean to write him as an asshole, but it's just how Frank sees him right now. No wonder. Anyway, leave a comment or a kudos if you don't think this is entirely shitty.

“Do I have to force you two into some kind of couples counselling or something?” Mikey asks. “Because I’m getting real tired of your shit.”  
Frank could just hang up on him.  
“Funny.” Frank says dead serious to the phone and hears his friend sigh.  
“Seriously, Gee’s been bitching so bad… I can’t take it anymore. Please just… talk to each other again.”  
“We do.” Frank lies calmly. At least in Frank’s head they do.  
“What happened between you two anyway?”  
“You mean Gerard hasn’t told you?” Frank demands with his worst know it all voice.  
“Well, he said you’re a jackass.”  
“HE SAID –“Frank groans. “I’m a… fucking… oh sweet jesus he’s a cunt.”  
“He may be a cunt, but he’s still my brother.” The younger Way notes. “And I’m starting to get worried here. He doesn’t have that many friends. He can’t really afford to lose them.”  
“He’s not fucking losing me.” Frank whines. “He’s throwing me away.”  
“That’s not true.” Mikey disagrees.  
“Oh it isn’t?” Frankie questions. “Like, I don’t know, what is his problem? Seriously? If I’ve done something he wrong, he could might as well say it to my face.”  
“Look, I didn’t mean to be this straight forward –“ Mikey sighs again, even deeper, “You know I usually avoid getting involved in other people’s personal business but this is fucking ridiculous. I mean, everybody knows you have a gay spot in your hearts – and god help me, in your pants - for each other.”  
“Uhm –“  
“Shut up” Mikey cuts Frank off, “Stop living in denial. We all fucking know, you two are terrible at keeping secrets. But this is getting annoying.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“It was fun at first to watch you act like a pair of stupid teenage girls but this drama is wrecking me. So, if you could just please go to his place and beg for forgiveness on your knees and do some other stuff I don’t want to think about in that same position, it’d be great.” Mikey’s been talking so fast Frank has barely caught them. Too much to process, maybe.   
It feels like something small, something that has just woken up, is hiding in the back of Frank’s head. He shakes it, tries to make it bigger, to see, what it is. Something that Mikey said, something he let Frank to assume.  
It might be something that makes Frank fall from the chair.  
Oh yeah.  
Just that Mikey didn’t say: “Everybody knows you have a gay spot for Gee in your heart.” No. Instead, he said: “For each other.”  
Frank’s no good in English grammar, but at least he knows that “each other” means that Gerard likes him too, in the same way Frank likes him.  
Could it really be?  
Are they really having this discussion?  
The secret really is as obvious as he feared.  
He strokes his hair. He needs to play it cool now so that he doesn’t embarrass himself. He couldn’t take any more humiliation. Maybe Mikey didn’t mean it to sound like that, maybe Frank heard him wrong.  
“I’m not apologising.” Frank’s being stubborn. “I have done nothing wrong.”  
“Well –“  
“What? Mikey, what has Gee said? Tell me!”  
“I know nothing.” Mikey whines. “I’m just a messenger. I just know that he busted you kissing some random dude and I think that’s why he’s so upset.”  
“I can’t…” Frank has to take a deep breath, hands shaking, “…believe this. I can kiss whoever the fuck I want.”  
“Yeah but…” Mikey notes, “It’s just that he’s pretty sensitive and I think he had already expected you two to be a couple any day now.”  
“He has a fucking girlfriend!” Frank nearly screams from frustration. “And he has the balls to be jealous?!”  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mikey sounds confused.  
“Well so he said to me!”  
“Gee hasn’t had a girlfriend since he was in 8th grade, trust me, I’d know.”  
It feels like the iron fist that’s been twisting Frank’s stomach around for weeks now, loses it’s grip. Suddenly, it’s all beginning to make sense. Maybe Gee came up with the lie just because he was stressed about Frank’s mom’s suspiciousness. It wouldn’t be the first time Gee did something awkward like that.  
It’s all clear now and Frank wants to punch himself for not getting in earlier. It was just the jealousy that made him… well… not think.  
“Motherfucker.” He whispers to the phone.  
“Getting the picture now?”  
“He must be so hurt.” Frank cries, “And now I feel like a total idiot.”  
“Honestly, you are.” Mikey complains. “So you hear that my brother’s taken and you suddenly, not thinking about it or asking him for explanation, hook up with the next guy you meet just to feel like you’re not completely forever alone? Not that classy, Iero. Not that classy.”   
“Look who’s talking.” Frank tries to strike back weakly, but he knows Mikey has a point.  
“Gee’s convinced that the guy was more than a one night stand, though.” Mikey explains tiredly, “I’ve been telling him some melancholic crap like that you only love him, Gerard and Frankie, the love story of the millennium and shit.”  
“You have?” Frank laughs. “Oh man.”  
“Feel my pain, okay? I don’t even know why I give a shit.”  
“It’s very kind of you, Mikeyway.” Frank really appreciates it, already feeling cheery and a bit high for knowing Gee has reacted so strongly. That Frank causes it in Gee.  
“Just man, please. Go and tell my asshole brother that he’ll always the one for you or something. I’m done.”  
“No you’re not.” Frank teases. “You have a big heart, Mikey. And you care about us.”  
“I care about my own mental health.” Mikey says, but Frank can almost hear him blush. Mikey, despite his intelligence and sensitivity, hates talking about feelings. And Frank knows that. And he’s not afraid to use it against him.  
“Bullshit. It’s us you care about. You just want to see us together, don’t you?”   
“You’re testing my patience, Iero.”  
“I’m just touched.”   
“Oh fuck you.” Mikey says highly annoyed, “Why oh, why, does my brother have so bad taste? I mean, he’s not THAT ugly, he could get someone bearable instead of you.”  
“Not ugly? Man, you’re brother’s the prettiest guy I’ve ever met.”  
“Okay, this is exactly the kind of shit I don’t want to listen to. And I swear to god I’ll strangle you if you ever, ever, talk about having sex with my brother, seriously.”  
“Stop with the over protectiveness.” Frank tells Mikey, “Gee’s an adult, he can do what he wants.”  
“I’m not being protective, you fucktard.” Mikey grumps. “I just don’t wanna be stuck with the image of… that…. in my head, thank you very much.”  
“I can’t promise something like that.” Frank grins.  
“Drop dead, asshole.” Mikey wishes. “I wonder why I even helped you.”  
“Because you’re secretly very sympathetic and a nice guy.” Frank guesses. “Mikey the therapist.”   
“Just go now.”   
“Okay, okay, I will.” Frank agrees. “To convince Gee about my undying love and make hot, steamy, gay sex on his floor.”  
Mikey doesn’t reply, just ends the call. The last thing Frank hears is the Way making a gagging sound like he’s about to throw up.  
Frank, however, doesn’t feel sick at all. Nothing but. He’s more happy than he’s been in… well, a long time. He practically dances through the apartment, air fisting and mumbling to himself: “Yes! Yesss!”  
The next step of course is to do as Mikey advised him to.   
Frank’s glad he has the time to prepare himself. He needs to take a shower and think carefully what he’s going to wear. He’s not vain, he just wants to look as good as he can. Besides, it might make things go more smoothly.  
What if Frank will be so irresistible to Gee that when he’ll arrive to his door, Gee will not even bother to say anything, just goes for it?  
Now that everything’s clear, Frank’s done with talking. It’s about a god damn time to do something to this emotional boner he’s had for Gee since they met. Maybe everything will work out, after all. It seriously looks like it.  
Right now, Frank’s not falling, he’s flying. Flying very high.  
He takes ages to fix his hair exactly how he wants it to be. When he checks himself from the mirror, he’s not afraid to admit that he looks fucking great. There’s a glow on his face that haven’t been there for a while, and his eyes are sparkling wilder than before. He feels so alive, feels like every breath he takes is cherishing his lungs.   
He knows that every step that he takes, takes him closer to Gee, and it makes him want to run so bad.   
So what if it hasn’t been easy? Frank’s never been a fan of simple things. He likes things with a little extra twist, little excitement. He doesn’t want anything dull, tasteless, boring, ordinary. And Gee’s opposite of that everything. Gee is the messy phone call at 3AM, he’s the “I think we shouldn’t” that leads to stupid decisions.   
Gee is Frank’s personal little mess.  
A Loveable mess.

Frank walks like there’d be a fire burning his feet. He just can’t wait until he sees Gee with these new eyes, new perspective. He reminds himself to buy Mikey something awesome this Christmas. He really deserves it, the little sentimental poker face.  
Everything’s just so good.  
Gee likes Frank, Gee likes Frank – Frank hasn’t dreamt everything, it’s all very real.  
Either that or Mikey’s playing a very cruel joke on him.  
Frank can’t stop his hand from shaking when he knocks on Gee’s door. “Open up already.” He mutters, fixing his hair again. He’s nervous like a school boy, hoping to seem at least adorable, because his usual self-confidence is gone.  
Frank really should know it’s too good to be true, after all.  
It’s not Gee who opens the door.  
It’s Bert, the guy Frank hoped he’ll never see under these circumstances. And by that, he means Bert’s skinny arm on Gee’s thin waist, pulling him close.  
“Oh.” Frank manages brightly, quickly hiding the flower he picked from outside the building behind his back. “Oh.” He repeats.  
“Uhm, Hi.” Bert’s irritating voice cracks it’s way to Frank’s conscious and tears his happiness apart.  
Oh no no. Oh no, this is not happening, not really.  
“Frank.” Gee says blankly, avoiding the shorter man’s breaking look, “What are you doing here?”  
“Oh” Frank says like it’s all he’s able to get out of his system, “I mean – I was just… Passing by and I thought that I – I could come and say hi.”  
“Well.” Gee raises his eyebrow. “Hi, then. You wanna come in?”  
“Not really… I’m busy.”  
Bert has this unbelievably annoying smirk on his face that Frank deeply hates from the bottom of his heart. God damn it.  
Frank’s always been bad with schedules and it seems he’s late again. Late from his own life, jesus Christ. Time is fucking with him again.   
No, it’s not Frank’s life, it’s the people in it that make it so hard. Maybe he should just give up with trying to find his place. Every part in this play is already filled. Frank’s just a leftover, substitute or something.  
“You haven’t changed over the years.” Bert says from somewhere far. “It’s fun to see you again.”  
And then that little bastard kisses Gerard’s cheek, awkwardly but intimate enough to make Frank uncomfortable. It’s almost like Bert’s marking his territory or something, telling Frank to back off. Frank knows he’s been fighting a battle he can’t win.   
He shouldn’t be this surprised.  
“Yeah so I’m just gonna leave you two alone.” Frank says completely monotony and toneless, “I have stuff to do.”  
He turns his back at them and tries to leave without losing all of his dignity. It doesn’t go that well.  
“Frank?” Gee calls, trying to stop him.  
Frank looks over his shoulder, looks Gee in the eyes, and for a moment he sees how something, almost regret-like flashes in Gerard’s face. Then it’s all gone again and he looks – well – as normal as he can.  
“Yeah?”  
“We should watch a movie again some time. I miss you.”  
Frank shrugs, something big in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.  
“I miss you too.” he says.  
And tries to run away from it all.  
He knew it was horrible thing to do, to let himself believe the fall was a good thing. Now he won’t be able to get up any time soon.  
He’s just a leftover.


	11. Don't hang on to anything I've said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter and then I'm done with this one (I'm running out of lyrics to use as chapter titles). In case you haven't noticed, I've only used Joyriding lyrics.

Frank’s been making a lot of mistakes in a past couple of weeks and now he even makes them when he’s playing. That happens rarely, practically like never, and he feels like shit.  
Jamia’s patience is ending.  
“Oh come on, Frank! The hell is wrong with you?” She demands, brushing her electric hair from her eyes so she’s able to see something.  
“Nothing, just tired.” Frank mutters, hiding behind his guitar. “And I think the fever is rising again.”  
He’s really feeling ill again, but he doesn’t bother to find out if it’s only mental or physical too. He’s run out of pills to take but too damn lazy to get new ones, even though Jamia could maybe deal him some medication through her job.  
It’s not worth the trouble. He’ll be feeling like crap anyway, so why bother?  
“Dude, you look like trash.” The bassist informs Frank unnecessarily. It’s not like Frank wouldn’t know that already.  
“Seriously, what’s up?” Mic asks, voice bit raspy. He still has to practise the high notes. They haven’t discussed about the Bar incident and Frank humbly hopes that they won’t ever do that. Mic’s a nice guy and all, but there’s this little issue.  
He’s not Gee.  
Maybe Frank was able to pretend he was for a moment – but that’s all. Even if Frank’s a douchebag, he’s not that terrible he’d start anything with anyone just to fool himself to believe he was dating someone else.  
It wouldn’t be that fair towards Mic.  
Frank coughs, not answering the question and tunes his guitar a bit, acting like he didn’t hear. He wouldn’t want to lie, but he wouldn’t want to talk about it, either.  
Mikey tried to call him three times yesterday but Frank didn’t pick up. Even though he knows it’s not anyone’s fault, he’s still a bit mad he let Mikey trick him to Gee’s door, getting his heart broken. That’s how it really feels like.  
Fuck it.  
“Shit, I can’t stand him when he looks that sad.” Jamia complains. “Frankie please. We’re like, your family now. You can tell us.”  
“Actually, you should tell us.” Mic confirms. “Family shouldn’t have secrets.”  
The drummer and the vocalist look at Ed, apparently expecting him to join the persuasion.  
Ed shrugs and sighs.  
“I don’t really care.” He says, “but talk if you feel like it.”  
“Nice one, Ed. Smooth.” Jamia whines. “Remember when you needed the support with your issues –“  
“What if we don’t discuss about that.” Ed says, frowning.  
“No secrets.” Mic repeats, grinning.  
“Fuck you, secrets are great.” Ed growls. He looks very uncomfortable, giving Frank an odd, almost fearful look from the corner of his eye.  
“You know, Frank –“Jamia begins, Ed looking pretty desperate, “Our friend Ed here used to have boobs.”  
Ed looks highly aggressive.  
“Asshole.” He hisses.  
“Like I’d give a shit.” Frank mumbles. He really don’t. He’s just glad the subject has changed. Even if it’s making one of his band mates rather murderous.  
“Jesus, let me off the hook.” Ed whines. “We were talking about this dwarf here.”  
“You got the balls to call me short.” Frank notes angrily.  
“Actually he doesn’t have ‘em.” Mic says, fixing the height of his microphone. “Not that I’ve checked or anything, but so I’ve heard.”  
“Anyway.” Ed raises his voice over Jamia’s giggle, “what’s going on, Frankie?”  
Frank gets serious again. Maybe he should, really, explain the situation to his new friends. Like, build trust or whatever.  
Maybe they’ll even advise him.  
What does it matter?  
“Okay then, here’s the deal.” Frank sighs, giving up. “I’ve had this huge crush on my best friend for centuries, but I kind of fucked it up and now he’s dating someone else.”  
“Fucked it up?” Jamia requires explanation.  
“Well… I kind of, had this… one night thing, and he saw me and I don’t know. But that was before I knew he had feelings for me too.”  
“One night thing?” Mic smirks knowingly. “Was he hot?”  
“That’s not the point.” Frank blushes, grinning. He’s relieved. And embarrassed at the same time. Why does the bad decisions always seem so great when you’re making them?  
“Dude, you’re screwed, you know that?” Ed sighs. “Shit, I feel you, it sucks, but what can you do.”  
“Stop bringing him down.” Jamia tries to kick Ed from behind her drum set. “He can still work it out, right? Can you?”  
He gives Frank an encouraging look.  
“Not really, no.” Frank mutters. “I mean, this dude he’s dating now… They have history.”  
“That’s my point.” Jamia reasons. “A history. But you can be the future, you know?”  
“Well, I don’t think so.” Frank denies with a weak voice. “He’s like, way out of my league anyway. And now that he has this boyfriend or whatever... I was just too late. If I’d knew he liked me a month ago, things could be so much better…”  
And that’s really what hurts most, to know, it was not totally impossible.  
That Frank really missed he chance to get Gee.  
It’s painful to realize, it’s his fault things will probably never work out again.  
“So, about that one night stand…” Mic says with a suggesting tone.  
“Not now, you dick.” Jamia scolds. “Don’t you see he needs a hug?”  
“I’m not hugging him, I might get sick.” Ed turns down the offer. “I wish I had beer.” He looks done with the conversation.  
After all, Frank gets his consoling hug; Jamia doesn’t seem to be afraid of infection. She just wraps her hands around Frank’s small body, and Frank presses his face against Jamia’s shoulder.  
“Thanks.” He mumbles, grateful.  
It’s so much easier to deal with stuff when there’s a group of idiots prepared to take his bullshit. Frank doesn’t regret agreeing to join the band one tiny bit. After all, the band is the only thing he gets up for these days.  
It’s his reason to keep breathing. Otherwise it might be too heavy to handle.  
He’s not losing his crush, that’s something he could live with.  
No, something lot worse is happening; Frank’s losing his best friend. And it hurts like hell, and probably will for a long time.  
“It’ll be fine.” Jamia says with weirdly soft voice that doesn’t quite match her punky appearance.  
“No.” Frank whispers. “No, I don’t really think so.”  
“Why not?” Mic points out. “He must have some feelings left, you know? Just go and get him! Charm him!”  
“I’d make an ass out of myself.” The short man complains. “I’m not in the shape of charming anyone right now.”  
“Shut up, puppy-eyes.” Jamia rolls her eyes. “A little bit of wax into your hair and you’ll look like a model again.”  
“Yeah, sure.” Frank can feel his cheeks heating up again. Yes, he still knows he’s attractive, but not that attractive. Besides, he’s sick. No one is that good-looking while having a cold. It’s just a fact.  
“Ten out of ten would bang.” Mic assures. “Even the straight ones, if you were wearing a wig.”  
“Are you actually blind?” Frank laughs. “Seriously, I’m not getting deeper into this mess anymore. I’ll just forget it and move on.”  
“Is it really that easy?” Ed asks. “Because hell, if it is, you gotta teach me how.”  
“Worth trying.” Frank stretches his arms, yawning. “I don’t know. It’s just so dumb.”  
Of course he’s throwing in an act again, but it’s just a defense mechanism. He doesn’t want to seem as whiny as he really is.  
“Stop lying, you brick.” Jamia slaps his cheek. “I don’t fucking tolerate this behaviour. You go and take another shot.”  
“Who are you, my mom?” Frank rubs his face, generally pretty shocked.  
“Someone has to be.” Jamia raises her arms. “You faggots apparently overthink everything. Just fucking go, you know you want to.”  
“No, not anymore.” Frank shakes his head, unsure. He’s afraid he’ll get even more hurt. Maybe he should start healing his wounds before getting kicked in the ass again.  
Unfortunately he’s always been pretty gullible, easy to talk into crazy shit.  
“You love him, right?” Jamia assures. “I can tell. You don’t give up on someone you love that easy.”  
“Casually reminder he’s taken, now.”  
“Oh fuck the mysterious guy he has history with!” Mic grins, joining Jamia in this epic prep talk. “I bet he’s there just to make you jealous!”  
“Stop” Frank puts his hands on his ears, “Stop convincing me or I’ll do something stupid.”  
“That’s the point. What do you say, Ed?” Jamia looks for another backup.  
“Well hell, which one will you regret more, trying or giving up?” Ed mutters wisely. “That’s something you have to think of.”  
“Good one.” Mic punches Ed’s arm.  
“Thanks. I’ve been practising.”  
“Fuck you guys.” Frank sighs. “I’ve actually started considering it. What the fuck is wrong with me?”  
“You’re in love.” Jamia explains, patting Frank on the head. “It sucks, I know.”  
Frank’s throat is sore, he’s feeling dizzy, confused. He’s not so sure about anything anymore. He doesn’t know when his life became a shitty soap opera, but here he is, wondering if he should give it another shot.  
Maybe, just maybe.  
Maybe he could win Gee back again.  
Is this already an obsession?  
Frank gets up, gets his jacket, nodding his head to his band mates, his new friends looking at him, expecting for a decision.  
“I gotta think about it.” Frank mumbles. “Maybe I’ll take a walk.”  
“You do that.” Jamia approves. “And take care of yourself.”  
“Of course.”

Frank walks his head held down, deep in his thoughts. Maybe, maybe not, what does it really matter? Is it really worth it? Is it really important? Could he take another humiliation? What if Gee’s hoping for Frank to do something? What if Gee’s thinking these same thoughts? What if Bert’s really there just to make Frank jealous? What if everyone else is playing a joke on him? What if Frank’s being fooled? What if…. What if….  
What if.  
Frank would love to bang his head against the wall, to clear his thoughts, make a moment of silence. Make some space there, figure things out.  
When he gets to the door of his place, he meets his stalker neighbour standing in front of it, waiting for Frank to arrive. She’s one annoying person, constantly smelling like cats and disinfectant. Her favourite hobby is to complain about Frank’s life rhythm or he being too loud when practising his guitar.  
Shit, this is not what Frank really needs right now.  
“Hi.” Frank greets the woman, Mrs. Flynn with a fake smile.  
“You don’t look well, young man.” The woman grips with her irritating, high voice.  
“Oh don’t I.” Frank sighs. “What is it, Mrs. Flynn?”  
“Are you hangover?” His neighbour turns up her nose, despising.  
“Nope, just tired.” Is it her business anyway? “What’s up?”  
“I tell you what’s up, Mr. Iero.” The woman starts theatrically. “I can’t live under these circumstances anymore. I’m a patient woman, Frank, but I have my limits.”  
“What’s wrong, then?” Frank sighs again, deeper this time. It’s not the first time they’re having this exhausting conversation. He’s not really in the mood for it.  
“You know, it’s none of my business how you live your life –“ She assures and Frank resists the temptation to tell the lady to fuck off, “But giving the keys to your home to anyone, it’s dangerous, and irresponsible.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“The red-haired junky, that one who’s not a man or a woman…. God help me, you know who I’m talking about. He’s been visiting your place too much lately. And always when you’re not home.”  
“He is?” Frank’s suddenly very into this talk.  
“Yes, and I think it’s rather alarming.”  
“Yes, yes it is.” Frank agrees.  
Frank tries very hard to figure out, why Gee’s been visiting his place, but there’s only one explanation he can come up with.  
He’s missing Frank. He’s missing Frank bad. Or if that’s not the case, Frank really needs to know what’s it all about.  
“Actually, he just left, few minutes ago.” The woman informs.  
“He did?”  
Now, now it’s Frank chance to talk things through. Now is his chance to catch up with Gee, to ask him why, how, everything.  
Now is his chance, he turns around in a hurry, attempting to leave.  
It’d be Frank’s chance if he wouldn’t stumble, trip over, lose the control of his body while rolling down the stairs, painfully, hitting his head and his limbs several times.  
The last thing he thinks before losing his consciousness is “What if.”  
What if.


	12. I'm not sure what they said

“So, you made a comeback.” Jamia helps Frank to sit straight while she fixes his pillow. Frank could do it himself, really, but he doesn’t hesitate taking advantage of the situation.  
Somehow the hospital feels like his second home already. He even remembers the doctor’s name.  
“Yeah, that happened.” Frank confirms like it wouldn’t be obvious anyway.  
“So, you gonna admit you’re clumsy as fuck now, or…?”  
“Not yet.” Frank shakes his head, grinning. “It was an accident, could’ve happened to anyone.”  
“In theory, yes, but it didn’t happen to anyone” Jamia points out, “It happened to you.”  
“My argument is still valid.”  
“No it isn’t.”  
“Yes it is!” Frank argues. “Like, I’m not the only guy in the world who’s done this!”  
“Yes you fucking are.”  
“No I’m fucking not.”  
“Shut up.”  
“You shut up.”  
“I won’t.”  
“I know you won’t.”  
“So why did you tell me to shut up?”  
“Because you’re annoying.”  
“No I’m not.”  
“Yes you are.”  
“Not as annoying as you.”  
Jamia sighs.  
“Oh I wish you had hit your head harder.” He punches Frank’s arm playfully and smirks when he winces from pain.  
“OUCH!”  
“That’s what you get for being a bitch.” Jamia says, turning her back at Frank and beginning to make the bed next to his. Frank would like to complain about the lack of privacy but he doesn’t have the energy. Maybe later when they stop giving him so much morphine.  
Frank just likes hospitals.  
“Seriously though” Jamia doesn’t look at Frank, she just keeps doing her job lazily, “I’m glad you’re alive.”  
Frank shrugs and doesn’t try to cover up his smile. He knows this is not usual from Jamia. Being serious. Or almost serious at least.  
“Me too.” Frank agrees.  
“It’s a shame you didn’t break your face” Jamia grins. “You’re too fucking pretty. It’s getting annoying.”  
“Seriously what’s your problem with my face?”  
“You’re too attractive.” Jamia puts out her lower lip. “All the groupies will be after you.”  
“Oh” Frank says. “Oh!”  
His eyes brighten.  
Jamia glances at Frank over her shoulder, slightly amused.  
“Why did you sound so surprised?”  
“I didn’t” Frank fixes his position, trying to get more comfortable on the bed that’s definitely not too soft or easy to lay on.  
“So, you’ve had visitors?” Jamia folds the covers of the bed she’s making as slowly as he can, apparently not giving a single thought to her responsibilities or possible time schedules she needs to follow. Frank’s not quite sure how she still works here.  
Maybe she sleeps with the boss or something.  
Frank grins from the thought. Maybe not.

“My mom was here” Frank says, closing his eyes and not really happy to talk about it. Not because it was bad or something, no – it was just too personal. He cried; mom cried; they sobbed hopelessly against each other’s shoulder’s until some other patient asked if they were alright.  
They were. They were just relieved.  
“My darling baby boy” Linda whispered, stroking Frank’s hair she usually complained about, “my darling, darling, sweet little Frankie.”  
You could’ve thought that Frank would’ve found this unpleasant, but he didn’t. He was still shocked (not shocked enough to admit it to Jamia though) about the incident, and he was as happy as his mom.  
He was, simply, happy to be alive.  
And lucky to be, too. That’s what the doctors told him. He survived with pretty much minimum amount of injuries from an accident that could’ve cost him his life.  
Just one broken bone (a rib) and few bruises and a concussion, but nothing he wouldn’t completely recover from.  
Linda stayed for hours but then she had to leave again when the doctors made her go, telling her that Frank needed some rest.  
They had time to have a proper talk in that time, though, the longest they had had in years. Frank had realised how much there was he wanted to say to his mom, and even if he still didn’t think he was as clumsy as all of his friends seemed to think, he had understood that something could happen to him, and he didn’t want to leave his mom without telling her few things.  
First of all, this is what he started with;  
“Mom, I’m in love with Gerard.”  
“I know, sweetie.” She replied shortly, patting Frank’s hand.  
“But we’re not a couple.”  
“You most definitely should be.”  
“I think so too” Frank grinned, “But Gerard doesn’t.”  
“He doesn’t?” Linda frowned. “How do you know? Have you talked about it, or –“  
“Well, not really.” Frank scratched his neck.  
“Oh?”  
“But he’s dating someone else.”  
“Oh, poor boy.” Linda closed her eyes and smiled sadly. “Poor Frankie.”  
“It hurts like hell, mom.” Frank confessed, too high to care if he sounded as overdramatic as he thought he did.  
“I know, sweetie.” Linda kissed his son’s cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on it. Frank felt like a child, being so close to his mom and being able to hug him and get comfort. It was wonderful and almost made him miss his childhood.  
Just almost.  
“I don’t know what I should do, ma.”  
“Just listen to your heart.”  
“What are you, Disney movie?”  
“No, I’m your mom.” Linda wrapped her hands around the little puppy-eyed prankster she loved so much that her heart might explode and gave him a suffocating snuggle. “And I’m giving you a mother’s advice.”  
“Is there any chance you could be more specific?” Frank whined. “I, like, I really need help with this one. I’m fricking clueless, that’s for sure.”  
“I don’t know, Frankie. It’s your life.”  
“Yeah.” Frank admitted. “Yeah, it is.”  
Sometimes he wasn’t that happy about it as he should’ve been.

“Was it ok?” Jamia asks, with a concerned tone that doesn’t quite suit her, and makes Frank suspicious. “With your mom, I mean.”  
“It was cool.” Frank coughs. “Why?”  
“No reason.”  
“Well of course not. Tell me what did you say to my mom?”  
“I didn’t say anything!”  
“Like I’m supposed to buy that. Bitch.”  
“Don’t you call me bitch, asshole.”  
“You called me bitch just five minutes ago yourself.”  
“Yeah but I’m a woman, so calling me bitch is degrading and sexist.”  
“That’s not fair.”  
“Life isn’t fair.”  
“Fuck you.”  
“You wish.”  
“No I don’t.”  
“I know you don’t, faggot.”  
“And how is that not degrading?”  
“Because I’m gay too.”  
“I hate this logic of yours.”  
“It’s because you’re too dumb to get it.”  
“Shut up.”  
“I won’t.”  
Jamia had been a great for keeping Frank’s mind off the things troubling him, and he was grateful – within couple of weeks he and Jamia had become very close, like they had already known each other for ages. Instant connection, maybe. Something that made them understand each other. Maybe it was the humour or the constant need to laugh.  
They laughed a lot when they talked.  
It was nice.

Frank hears a knock and turns to look, seeing who else but Ray and Bob standing by the door, looking both equally done with Frank’s bullshit. Ray’s even bought flowers, that little sentimental idiot. He throws them away and they hurry to hug their friend.  
“Shit.” Says Bob meaningfully.  
“Shit” Ray echoes, “Shit, indeed.”  
“Deep.” Frank teases. “Touching.”  
“You wanna know what’s deep and touching?” Bob asks.  
“Not really.”  
“Your guitar up your ass, you little prick.” Bob tells him still, shaking his head like a disappointed parent, and Ray agrees with the blonde, nodding his head so that the hair swings.  
“Dude seriously” Ray complains, “Was it like, absolutely necessary to cause us a heart attack like this?”  
“Meh, I’m fine.” Frank waves his hand, smirking, “Don’t you darlings worry about me.”  
“No, we worry about ourselves.” Bob sighs. “Jesus fucking Christ, Iero. Being friends with you is not good for my health. You give me arrhythmia.”  
“You should try exercise.” Frank smart-asses.  
“You should try not being a complete fucktard all the time.”  
“You should thank me” Frank winks, “For making your boring lives a little less boring.”  
“Ever since I’ve been friends with you, I’ve loved boring.” Ray says, not laughing, not even smiling. They always tend to take these situations more seriously than anyone else.  
“So, where are the mysteries Ways?” Frank demands, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“I dunno” Bob shrugs, “At home, I guess.”  
Something hits the bottom of Frank’s stomach.  
“They’re not coming?”  
“Trust me” Ray begins, “We tried to talk Gerard into coming for like fucking hours, but he wouldn’t come out of his bedroom. I think he was like, planning on a mass murder or something. He listened to fucking Slayer. I mean, Slayer. Gerard? Never.”  
“Oh.” Frank looks confused. “Any idea why’s he so pissed?”  
“Yes we have an idea.” Ray rolls his eyes. “Because Bert got married today, of course.”  
“WHaa –“ Frank nearly falls from the hospital bed.  
“Yeah.” Ray assures. “Gerard had to be the best man. You know he hates weddings and parties and shit. He was so low from the whole thing.”  
“Bert got –“  
“Yeah.” Ray nods. “Nice girl. Big smile. Big boobs.”  
“Boobs.” Bob repeats like it’d need specification. Frank just loves and hates these assholes at the same time.  
“Seriously?” Frank almost sings, “Married?”  
This can only mean one thing – Gerard and Bert were never dating at all. They were just talking about the wedding or something. Gerard had to be the best man, for fuck’s sakes, of course he wasn’t happy about that. And he was probably still pissed at Frank for kissing the singer dude whateverHe’sNameWas Frank doesn’t care to remember right now.  
Yeah, Hell yeah, it’s beginning to look rather promising again.  
“Were you this slow before or did you just hit your head very hard?”  
“Neither, I’m just happy.” Frank’s so eager to be able to see Gee again and talk to him that he almost jumps from the bed and runs all the way to Gee’s flat.  
“Any chance I could borrow your phone?” Frank asks Bob.  
“Sure.”  
“Great. Thanks.”  
Frank chooses the number and bites his lip excited when it’s ringing.  
“Haloo?” Mikey picks up.  
“Hi, Mikey, it’s Frank.”  
“Hi, man, are you oka –“  
“I’m fine, I’m fine, just hear me out?” Frank can’t handle small talk right now. “Where’s Gee? I need to see Gee. Tell him to get his ass here or I will escape from this hospital, I swear.”  
“Frank, are you high?”  
“Very, but that’s not really the point.”  
“So you want me to –“  
“Yes. Tell your brother that if he isn’t here in a half an hour then I’ll do unspeakable things to his Misfits action figures.”  
“Why the hurry?”  
“Because.” Frank takes a deep breath, ignoring Ray’s and Bob’s asking looks. “Because I really gotta do something I’ve been avoiding for too long now, and every time something seems to get in the way. It’s like destiny or something. A curse. But it won’t happen again. And I need to talk to him.”  
“Not sure if I’ll talk him into it” Mikey hesitates.  
“You have to”. Frank informs.  
“Okay, buddy, I see what I can do.”  
“Thank you, Mikey. Thank you.” Frank says from the bottom of his impatient-filled heart.  
“Any time” Mikey sighs sarcastically. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”¨  
“I vuw you Mikeyway. Thank you. You have a big heart and I’ll name my first child after you.”  
Mikey hangs up.  
“What was that?” Bob asks pretty unsure.  
“You’ll see.” Frank says, and really hopes he’s right.

Gerard Way isn’t a person who walks in to a room. He doesn’t do that. He isn’t so ordinary. He either sneaks into it like a shadow, like the most insecure kid on a playground, or he arrives like a queen expecting everyone to bow at him.  
That’s what Gerard Way’s like.  
Frank likes all the other things about Gerard Arthur Way too. For example, his ability to completely lose himself in a song, or forget about everything else when he’s drawing something. Gerard is intelligent, he’s smart, he’s funny. He comes up with good plans, he’s good at making puzzles. He knows literature, he’s pretty educated, but not snob. He enjoys bad horror films and occasionally drinking fake blood. He loves candy. He accepts people’s weaknesses, he doesn’t judge or think he has the right to make mean comments about other people’s decisions; he has a moral, he cares about other people and he’s the best kind of friend anyone could ever hope for.  
And besides these things, Frank loves Gerard. A lot.  
He has loved him for a while.  
And now, when he arrives, Frank forgets about everything else for a moment, allowing himself just to stare, just to breath in the presence of Gerard, and he understands how much he’s actually missed him.  
Too much.  
Gerard Way is a person you can’t forget about when you let him under your skin. He will stay there. He’s as permanent as a tattoo.  
Frank has finally given in.  
“Hi.” Says Gerard Way, the love of Frank’s life.  
“Hi.” Replies Frank, gasping for air.  
Somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, Bob and Ray share a meaningful look no one else bothers to notice.  
As long as Frank cares, he’s alone with Gerard now. Or might as well be. He doesn’t, he just simply doesn’t give a fuck.  
“How are you doing?” Gerard asks, weird look on his face.  
“I’m great. You?”  
“I’m fine.”  
“Awesome. Not shut the fuck up and kiss me.”  
Gerard does as he’s told, thank god. A choir of angels begins to sing somewhere in the back of Frank’s mind and oh yep, this is exactly what he needs, this is exactly what he wants and everything’s so perfect right now, almost too good to be true.  
Bob and Ray might say something but Frank doesn’t hear. It’s like a movie kiss from the 60s where everything just focuses on the couple and the birds are singing and there’s suddenly violins and shit and it’s the whole highlight of the plot and everyone should act like they’re surprised when in the end, the whole plot was pretty predictable from the start.  
The princess gets the prince.  
Well in this case, prince gets the prince.  
“You’ve been visiting my flat.” Frank grins against his best friend’s mouth.  
“You’ve been having one night stands with your new band’s lead vocalist.” Gerard snaps.  
“You’ve been letting me think that you have first a girlfriend and then that you’ve gotten together with Bert.”  
“You’ve been acting like a little idiot.”  
“I have.” Frank admits. He feels like he really owes that much.  
“You’ve also been risking your life with being clumsy.”  
“I’m not clumsy!”  
“I’ve been missing you.” Gerard whispers.  
“I’ve been missing you too.”  
“Anything else you’ve been doing?”  
“I’ve been falling in love with you, if that’s what you mean.”  
“Gonna keep doing that?”  
“All the time.”  
“Me too.”  
Frank wants to yell, Frank wants to dance, Frank wants to kiss and hug everyone.

“Ugh.” Bob whines. “It’s worse than I thought.”  
“I know right.” Ray agrees. “I wish they could’ve keep denying it a bit longer.”

Frank’s denying nothing (except the god damn clumsiness) anymore. Just when he thought that he had lost Gerard, that it was all gone, he’s forced to see that this definitely isn’t the end for them.  
It is a beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's done now! I spent so much time on this fic that it feels kind of sad to let it go. Sad, but also relieving.
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment to tell every single one of you who've leaven a kudos or a comment or bookmarked or subscribed or something, that I appreciate the positive feedback that I've gotten from this work so much and I'm seriously crying a bit, because you people are awesome and supportive even though I'm really not that good and it means the world to me, THANK YOU ♥  
> This fic, especially, has caught more attention that I could've ever imagine and It's unbelievable and makes me so proud and happy. So I just wanted to say that I love you guys, and I really hope I didn't let you down with the final chapter, and I hope you all have a wonderful day today because you're fucking awesome and you deserve it.
> 
> Love,  
> Hellarad


End file.
